My Sons' Eyes Are Blue, Too
by AJCrane
Summary: It is barely a week after Dick Grayson was rescued from the clutches of Matthew Malone and his cohort Jasper Cage. Dick is plagued with nightmares and the fear toxin seems to be getting stronger rather than fading from his system. Damian is also suffering from extreme guilt. Can Bruce help both his sons to heal or will they all reach a breaking point.
1. Prologue-Devestation of the Mind

My Sons' Eyes Are Blue, Too

By

AJ

Prologue: Devastation of the Mind

The nightmare came again, faces leering, hands groping, bodies pressing against his, driving their point home with jeers and catcalls that would make even the modest of men blush. Dick tried to escape, but the bonds that held him this time were of his own making. Wrapped in cotton and silk he couldn't escape the inevitable. Malone and Jasper had him once again. The terror that struck sent daggers of anguish to his mind where he could not discern between the dream and real life. Was he a prisoner or wasn't he? Was this real? Or was it within his fragile psyche? It seems he was suffering once again from nightmares that would not end. His dream self was becoming weaker and smaller, being reduced to a boy once again and still they would not stop their relentless pounding. It felt so real.

"NO! NOOOOO!" he screamed out his terror until his voice was hoarse. Then a dark menacing figure swooped in as if to rescue him, but instead the figure swallowed him whole, forcing him to relive his worst fear of all, the fear of failure in which there was no escape. He failed to fight back and the menacing figure ripped him in two leaving him empty and alone. Dick turned his head to see another on the shadow's edge.

"Bruce, please help me!"

But the figure of his father and former mentor just stood there helpless with his hands tied.

The fifteen-year-old image of himself stared at the man with his eyes wide, pleading when suddenly he was pulled away, back through the darkness.

Dick Grayson bolted up right crying out in his anguish from what he had witnessed. "Why! Why didn't you help me!"

"Dick!" Bruce rushed in to grab his son into his arms to comfort him from a second round of nightmares in one night. The words he cried out were different. What had he dreamed? "Dick."

Bruce reached for his son and gently pulled him into an embrace, but Dick suddenly thrust him away continuing to repeat, "Why, why didn't you help me!"

Racking sobs of anguish sent the young man crashing back onto the bed. He rolled over, turning his back on his father and curling up into a ball so tightly, his fingers nearly ripped through the fabric of the mattress.

Bruce stared, astonished at what Dick had done, his hands still poised in their embrace to touch and comfort his son now touched empty air. It was only the second time in his life when Dick could not . . . would not be comforted. The first time was when Batman ripped Robin from him and the part that was Bruce let it happen causing a rip in his own soul where grief and a second son had not replaced what he had lost. He could not believe what was happening.

Earlier, Bruce had succeeded in easing his son's distress and what he witnessed, a robin successfully escaping the clutches of a hawk had given him a sense of hope, that his birds would fly again. Was that hope misplaced? Did he read the omen wrong? Or was it just a coincidence that a hawk and a robin fought and the smaller bird succeeded in escaping what could have been its fate?

Bruce didn't dare leave his son alone and yet his son had rejected his attempt at bringing him comfort. Heartsick once again, Bruce made his way to the conservatory to decide on what must be done. He feared that the nightmares were slowly driving his eldest son insane and his only option at that point was to send him away to a hospital to get help. Arkham Asylum was the closest, but he dare not send Dick there. Too many of Gotham's criminally insane were there.

'If I send him to Arkham, it will kill him. Please, Father, I don't know what to do any more. My oldest is fighting a losing battle with his mind and my youngest is racked with guilt. He tries to hide it, but I see it in his eyes. What must I do? I don't know what to do.'

For the first time in many years, he felt helpless. Bruce Wayne covered his face with his hands and wept.

Continues with Part 1: A Broken Bird In My Hands

/

_**A/N: The dream reflects back to Broken Trust series. In the series Bruce saves Dick, but in Dick's dream, Bruce is powerless and cannot help and for a moment when Dick wakes, he's still partially in that dream state where he's that 15-year-old boy and asking why Bruce did not help him and he rejects Bruce's attempt to comfort him.**_


	2. Part 1-A Broken Bird In My Hands

My Sons' Eyes Are Blue, Too

By

AJ

Part 1: A Broken Bird In My Hands

Bruce once again moved down to the conservatory and library. It was his usual place of refuge where he did most of his thinking, especially late at night when he didn't go out on patrol. The light in the east was edging toward dawn. It was a misnomer that Gotham City was always gloomy. There were days where the sun shone bright, especially during the height of summer or deep in winter. A cold clear winter day caused Gotham City to sparkle like a jewel with brilliant fire, but deep at its heart it gave no warmth. And within Bruce a cold hard lump sank in his gut. Dick had never pushed him away in the middle of a nightmare. This was something more, something so deep it was changing him from within. Bruce at first could not fathom what it was, too stunned to even think clearly on what was happening to his eldest son.

With little sleep and last night's events running through his head, he barely heard the cracking of glass as something struck one of the windows. He looked up to see the spidery veins running through the antique glass and his eyes narrowed. What could have hit the pane without shattering it? He remembered only one other time where a creature of the night came crashing through another pane of glass without stopping and that creature became his symbol. It wasn't night. Then his eyes narrowed as a thought came to him and he rose from the chair and moved to the door that led outside to a small terrace framed by miniature boxwood. The scent of the boxwood hit his nose and an image came unbridled to his mind. It was a memory when he was a child of five. He was playing on the terrace as his father sat and watched him from this very room. Scent memory was a powerful thing. He would have to examine the memory later, bent on his task to discover what it was that hit the window with such force as to nearly shatter it.

Bruce moved to where the pane of glass was broken and on the terrace flagstones he found a bird, a large male robin. The bird was writhing in pain and anguish, flapping one of its wings trying to right itself. The bird sharply chirped out its pain and on seeing a large shadow approach tried to escape, but did not get very far.

"Easy," Bruce slowly approached the bird and cornered it near the terrace wall and the glass of the conservatory. Grasping it gently, he examined one of the wings and found it to be lying at an odd angle. Seeing and holding that broken bird was almost too much for him. This was an adult robin, fully fledged. And yet the bird was damaged from hitting his window. The symbolism wasn't lost on Bruce. He carefully held the bird to his chest and carried it inside. He was about to decide what to do with it when . . .

"MASTER BRUCE!"

"FATHER!"

Bruce ran from the conservatory still grasping the broken bird against his chest. He came to a sudden halt when he saw the body of his eldest son lying at the foot of the stairs not moving. Eyes wide and filled with dread, he approached his son and what he saw was the mirror image of the broken robin that he held in his hands.

"Dick." The name came out barely as a whisper. He knelt down still holding the broken bird in one had and slowly reached for his son. He almost pulled back when he saw that his hand was shaking.

"Allow me, Sir," Alfred said and he knelt down and pressed his fingers along the artery in his neck and breathed a sigh of relief. "He's alive, Sir."

Bruce released the breath that he had not realized he had been holding.

"Call an ambulance,' Bruce said. "I think this time, he's going to need a hospital."

Continues with Part 2


	3. Part 2-Injuries and Accusations

My Sons' Eyes Are Blue, Too

By

AJ

Part 2: Injuries and Accusations

"Where is that ambulance?" Bruce questioned. He continued to sit by his eldest son, supporting his head with one hand, all while still holding onto the broken bird in his other. The bird was strangely silent and calm as it watched the proceedings from where Bruce held it against his chest.

"We should not move him, Master Bruce," Alfred recommended. "We do not know the extent of his injuries."

Because of their remote location, it took 45 minutes for the ambulance to arrive. If he could have lent them the batmobile, he would have done so at that very moment to give speed to the paramedics, but that was out of the question. All they could do was sit and wait. Alfred let the paramedics in as soon as they arrived out front. He didn't bother to wait for their knock. Seeing the young man unconscious on the floor, the EMTs and Paramedics got to work.

"Can you tell us what happened?"

"I saw what happened," Damian spoke up. "He fell down the stairs. He tripped over the small table in the hall."

"What was the table doing near the stairs?" Bruce asked.

"That was my fault, Sir. I was vacuuming and needed to move the table to clean under it. I became distracted and forgot to replace the table where it belongs."

The paramedic gave Alfred a dubious look, as if he didn't believe him. Bruce's stomach tied in knots as another paramedic rolled up the sleeve of Dick's pajama top to take his blood pressure. He hesitated when he saw the marks.

"Does he take drugs?" another asked.

"Not willingly."

"Excuse me?" the paramedic's eyes narrowed.

"I'm sorry . . . I know what it sounds like. My son was recently kidnapped and it was the kidnappers who shot him up with . . ." Bruce didn't dare say what. He wasn't suppose to know about the fear toxin, even though everyone in Gotham City may have heard about the Scarecrow and his fear inducing drugs. "They gave him some drugs that induces nightmares."

"Anything else we should know?"

"They . . . they raped him," Bruce's words went down to a whisper. "He may not want to be touched when he comes to."

"How did he sustain these current injuries?" the man was a little suspicious.

"He must have had a nightmare and came running out of his room," Alfred surmised. "He ran into the hall table near the stairs and both he and the table . . ."

"I already said that," Damian stated incensed that no one had listened to him or even seemed aware of his presence. "I saw it happen. I came out of my room when I heard him running down the hall."

"Are you sure he wasn't . . ."

Bruce's eyes narrowed, "You are implying that someone pushed my son down the stairs or that . . ."

" . . . That's not what I'm saying, Mr. Wayne. We need to check all angles as to what happened."

Another EMT spoke as he examined Dick's injuries. "He has a broken collar bone on the left side as well as a dislocated shoulder. He may have some broken ribs as well. He might also have a concussion."

"Check his vitals and relay them to the nearest hospital."

Another of the paramedics relayed the information on Dick's vital signs as readings were taken. As soon as they were complete, they prepared him for transport, carefully placing him on a gurney.

"Please, take him to Gotham Memorial. I'll contact our personal physician," Alfred stated.

"Why there? We normally take a patient this far from town to the nearest hospital."

"The family physician works at Gotham Memorial Hospital," Alfred stated.

"It will take an hour."

"That does not matter," Bruce said. "Please, he needs to be taken to Gotham Memorial."

Gotham Memorial had the best staff and Leslie Thompkins was on that staff besides running the clinic at Park Row, also known as Crime Alley. Bruce had insisted after Dick and Damian had been admitted with a severe case of pneumonia. It was soon after Bruce returned to the present. Damian had recovered quickly, but Dick had to be isolated in order so his weakened lungs to recover, at least that's what the reports had said. Dick and Damian also had been hit with paralyzing gas. Dick was hit with the brunt of it while Damian only received a glancing blow. Without the aid of life support Dick would not have made it.

"Damian, I need you to do something for me," Bruce stated.

"I want to go with you," Damian demanded.

"I need you to take care of this bird," Bruce said, handing Damian the robin.

"What kind of bird is this?" Damian's eyes narrowed. He had seen the birds, but didn't know their species. He examined the bird and discovered the injury. 'It's left wing may be broken, Father. It may never fly again."

"Don't say that," Bruce said dismayed, though his eyes were locked on Dick as the paramedics took him out to the ambulance. He turned toward his youngest son to give him his full attention. "Please Damian. I know you love animals. Do what you can. I've got to go to the hospital with Dick."

Damian watched his father leave as he continued to hold onto the bird. "Pennyworth, why does Father wish me to help this bird?"

"Because Master Damian that bird is a robin. And all robins must be given a chance to fly."

/

Bruce arrived at the hospital just minutes behind the ambulance. He entered the emergency room just as the ambulance attendants were entering with Dick. They quickly moved him to a private area and got to work while Bruce was dealing with admittance.

"I need X-rays," the attending physician demanded. "Man this guy's arms look like a pin cushion. What did he shoot himself up with?"

"According to his father, he's not a junkie," one of the paramedics stated.

"Who's his father?"

"Bruce Wayne," the paramedic answered.

"What do you mean he's not a junkie. You can see for yourself. The guy should have O.D.-ed. I wouldn't be surprised with that playboy. He should not have been allowed to adopt any kid."

Bruce Wayne came into Dick's emergency room overhearing the conversation. He ignored the opinion that had been voiced and concentrated on the facts, dispelling any nonsense that his son was an addict. "My son did not do that to himself. He was kidnapped and drugged and . . . raped . . . a week ago," Bruce swallowed hard on the emotions he was feeling, trying to stay in control.

"What?" The attending physician asked. "Why wasn't he brought in then?"

"He was saved by Batman. DNA evidence was collected and was sent to the police." Bruce didn't elaborate further on how that evidence was collected.

"He should have been examined by a doctor."

"He was examined," Bruce said quietly as he recalled that night. The images wouldn't leave his mind. He still blamed himself for not getting there in time to stop the two men from raping his son. Dick had been more than just raped. He had been whipped and shot up with fear toxin, toxin that should have left his system by now, but the universal drug antidote did not seem to work this time.

"What about the needle marks? Do you know what they gave him?"

"I'm assuming it was the same thing they gave him last time," Bruce said. Realizing what he just said it was highly probable they did not know what he was talking about. Dick hadn't gone to the hospital and there was no record of his kidnapping back then.

"Last time?"

Bruce explained when Dick was fifteen he had been kidnapped by the same man who kidnapped him this time. He did not go into full detail of the events. They didn't need to know that the man who kidnapped Dick was Matthew Malone, son of the late Tony Zucco. He had set up Dick, making it look like he was planning to cheat on the pre-college exams. Dick ran away, trying to prove his innocence and played right into Malone's hands. Malone tried to take revenge on Dick and to regain his father's empire. He did tell the attending physician that Dick had also been shot up with fear toxin during that time, but the toxin had left his system within a day or two without any lasting affects.

"That's what I was told," Bruce amended. "The man didn't touch him then."

"We'll take a blood sample. We'll find out what it is and let you know."

Bruce doubted they would discover anything new. That was the first thing he did when the universal drug antidote didn't work after a few days. It was obvious this fear toxin was somehow different. It would seem he would have to go to the source, but that would mean facing his own fears.

"Let me know if you find anything out of the ordinary."

One question still plagued him. How did Malone get ahold of fear toxin when Crane was in Arkham?

Continues with Part 3


	4. Part 3-Diagnosing The Problem

My Sons' Eyes Are Blue, Too

By

AJ

Part 3: Diagnosing The Problem

Bruce allowed the emergency room attendants and doctors to work on Dick. They examined his broken collarbone and reset his dislocated shoulder. The doctors placed his left arm in a special brace to hold the two pieces in place, despite the fact that there was evidence that showed within the past few minutes the bones were already starting to knit together. They also found several cracked ribs that were also starting to heal. Bruce speculated that the electrum in his system was helping Dick to heal faster than a normal person. They also discovered a lump on the back of Dick's head. That must have happened when he reached the bottom of the stairs. The doctors did whatever they could, but it would have to wait for Dick to regain consciousness before they could tell them what happened.

"We'll be moving him to a room. He'll be ready for you to see in an hour. We'll keep him over night for observation."

Bruce was informed of the visiting hours.

'I wish they would let me stay. They don't know about the nightmares.' Bruce thought.

Within the hour Dick was taken to a room and an IV was hooked up. Fluids were given to him to keep Dick from becoming dehydrated. Another needle was placed in Dick's arm and the attending nurse drew three vials of blood. She marked his name and room number, as well as the number on Dick's wristband that they applied when he was admitted.

Bruce approached the nurse drawing the blood.

"What tests will be done?" Bruce asked. "And when will you get the lab report back?"

"There will be a toxicology screen as well as screening for any other abnormalities. And the test results should be ready tomorrow morning."

As she was finishing with the third vial, Bruce palmed two of the empty vials. Once the nurse technician left, Bruce took the time to draw his own samples then pocketed the two vials. It's not that he didn't trust the doctor it was because he own equipment might catch something they might have missed.

Another nurse technician came in and unhooked the IV and any machines.

"Where are you taking him?"

"I'm taking him down for more X-Rays and an MRI to see if the doctor will need to perform surgery. He wants to check for swelling and muscle damage that might have occurred. We need to also check for any head injuries."

"How long will you be?" Bruce asked

"We should be back within an hour."

The nurse technician was true to his word. He returned with Dick within the hour. Dick, however, had not regained consciousness. Bruce was getting worried. Dick always came out of being unconscious faster than this. Could he have slipped into a coma?

Another 30 minutes the attending physician entered the private room carrying a disk. He placed it into the computer and brought up Dick's MRI results.

"Good news Mr. Wayne, your son does not appear to have any damage to his skull or brain, however there is a lot of brain activity in the occipital and temporal cortical lobes of his brain."

Bruce knew what it meant, but chose to let the doctor explain. "What does that mean?"

"He is dreaming, but he shouldn't be. When a person is unconscious usually those areas of the brain that sustains certain bodily functions like breathing are working and usually at a minimum. There should be very little brain activity."

"Do you know why he would have this much brain activity even unconscious?"

"Unfortunately, we don't know why," the doctor replied. "We'd like to keep him here over night for observation, maybe run more tests."

Bruce didn't know what to do. He really didn't want to leave his son here. If he came to during a nightmare, there would be no one to comfort him, but the last time, Dick had pushed him away and that hurt more than he let on. Then something occurred to him that he had not thought of before. What if the fear toxin had affected his mind more than he thought? Had the fear toxin been changed in some way where it was affecting those areas of the brain? Once again Bruce was faced with a dilemma. He would have to face Jonathan Crane, the Scarecrow, but could he? He had to get answers. It had been a week since Dick Grayson had suffered at the hands of Matthew Malone and Jasper Cage. Dick's nightmares should not have gotten this bad. The fear toxin should have been cleared from his system. Fear toxin, however, should only produce hallucinations, not the nightmares that Dick as been suffering, at least in part. Some of his nightmares obviously would have been about the rape and torture that had been done to him, but the fear toxin . . . Somehow this toxin is and continues to affect Dick's dreams, even while unconscious.

"I don't know if you can help, Doctor. This may require help from outside," Bruce said.

"There are specialists," the Doctor stated.

"Something has affected his mind," Bruce said sadly. "I don't know how much more he can take. The last few days . . . " Bruce didn't know if he should go into details, how Dick stopped eating. He barely took in any nourishment whether liquid or solid. He started to lose weight. 'He's always had trouble with that.' Dick didn't want to sleep, but his body needed rest. The ironic thing was that what rest he tried to get was negated from the nightmares.

'Malone, you've done this to him,' Bruce seethed inside. 'Perhaps I should see you first. I should have collected the evidence that night, such as the fear toxin itself. Maybe Gordon and the GPD have some in the evidence room. If they do have some, I might be able to break it down, synthesize an antidote.'

'Now you're starting to use your head,' Batman said at the back of Bruce's mind.

Bruce though did not dare voice what he was thinking, even to himself. If he could not find the antidote, he feared that whatever sanity his son has would quickly vanish. Can a man be driven insane from his nightmares? Bruce feared that's exactly what was happening to his son. What he feared the most was even if he did find the antidote, it may already be too late.

Continues with Part 4


	5. Part 4-Inside A Former Robin

My Sons' Eyes Are Blue, Too

By

AJ

Part 4: Inside a Former Robins' Mind

Dick Grayson's eyes looked around. He didn't know where he was. The sound of music reached his ears. It was a familiar sound, music that he had not heard for several years. As he moved through what was a heavy fog, Dick crossed the threshold into a large tent. By the time he realized where he was the show had begun. He found himself standing at the base of the platform he recognized all too well. He looked up to see the trapeze that his parents were on snap watching in horror once again as the ropes parted and his parents tumbled downward. At first it appeared to be in slow motion, then speeding up as their bodies accelerated, slamming into the ground with such force Dick swore he felt the earth move. Once again their faces were frozen in time with the look of shock and horror that haunted Dick's dreams for the rest of his life.

Suddenly the two people who Dick loved in the world as a child rose up from the sawdust covered ground. They were covered in blood and their limbs were at odd angles as well as their heads. His parents' accusing eyes turned towards him.

"You let us die," his father said.

"Why didn't you catch us?" his mother questioned.

"It wasn't my fault," Dick said. "I was on the ground."

"Why . . . Why . . .WHY!"

The grotesque figures of his parents moved closer, reaching for him, trying to grab him. Dick ran from the ghastly scene, his mind filled with terror. Then realizing . . . No! That never happened. It's not real!

The fog once again surrounded Dick this time there was laughter, sinister laughter that left him feeling chilled to the bone. Dick look down and saw that he was wearing his old Robin costume. His hands and feet were tied and Two-Face loomed in close. So close that he could smell the arch-criminal's fetid breath. Then pain exploded behind his eyes as Two-Face struck him with the bat. Suddenly, a figure rose up from the depths, from a hidden trap door. It was Judge Lawrence Watkins. His face was bloated pieces of his flesh had been eaten away.

'Why did you let me fall?"

"I . . . I . . . He tricked me," Robin said. "I . . . I'm sorry."

"Sorry is not good enough Boy Blunder."

No, NO! This isn't real, and yet, the events did happen. Judge Watkins died because Two-Face tricked him. The fog came again and Dick was facing Malone and Jasper. They leered at him then ripped his clothes. He knew what was coming and he could not stop it. They grew larger while he grew smaller. Dick tried to run but was grabbed by the waist from the giant Malone. Shackles were placed around his wrists and ankles. Malone appeared with a giant needle, injecting it into Dick's stomach. Dick screamed, but it did not stop there. Dick returned to his normal size as Jasper's face leaned into his.

"We're going to make you a man little boy," Jasper jeered.

The Jasper rammed home his point. It hurt ten times more than he remembered. Over and over Jasper kept at it, ramming home his point. And then Malone joined in, the two of them, laughing and jeering.

"We're going to make it so no one will want you. Not even that playboy Wayne."

"Tell me Dicky Boy, did he even love you this way?"

"Where is he? He can't help you now!"

"No! NOO!" Dick screamed his protest, but deep down Jasper and Malone were right. Bruce hadn't helped him. He hadn't saved him. Batman had.

Then Bruce's face loomed, showing disappointment.

"BRUCE!"

"You're weak Dick," Bruce said. "You're not a good soldier. I don't want a son who's weak."

"NO!" Rage filled Dick. "This isn't REAL!"

Dick sat up in bed; his eyes wide with fright and sweat pouring off of him. 'Why did I listen?' Dick thought. "This isn't real.' But it felt so real.

Jasper and Malone, Two-Face, and his parents. The vents were all real, but distorted and changed. Deep inside Dick knew the truth but the toxin was getting stronger and he didn't know if he could continue to fight its affects any longer. With each passing moment he felt like he was growing weaker.

"Death is the only escape,' someone whispered. "Death would stop the nightmares."

"No, so would waking up," Dick argued. "I will not do it."

"You will not be able to resist."

"No," Dick stated again. "It's wrong."

"Death is the only way or they will come again."

"Why are you doing this?"

"You know why."

"I'm tired, so tired," Dick said, his mind wavering.

"Rest then. Do what you must to stop the nightmares."

The voice was reasonable. The figure pulled out the IV and the wires that connected him to the monitors. He pulled out every needle that had been stuck in his body. He moved off the hospital bed and slowly moved toward the window. With his good hand, he grasped the base of the window, opened the sash, and climbed out on the ledge.

/

Damian held the wounded bird in his hands as he watched his father leave with the paramedics and his brother.

'Good luck, Father,' Damian thought. 'Save Grayson.' He knew that the young man somehow was important to his father in ways he had yet to understand. For now, he had to get use to the idea that Dick Grayson was his biological brother, and that brother was in grave danger of losing his mind. 'Malone and his cohort has done this to him. Perhaps Robin should visit them.'

The bird in his hand made a loud chirp, as if in agreement, as if the bird read his mind.

"But first I need to take care of your wing," Damian said to the bird.

Damian took the bird down to the cave and with the equipment in the medical bay he examined the wing. The bird, not understanding that Damian was trying to help tried to escape. It flapped its good wing and tried to move off the table.

"No, you don't," Damian said as he grabbed the bird as gently as he could without trying to harm it further. He placed the bird under the digital X-ray equipment and took the picture. It did not take long for the image to appear on the computer screen.

"It looks like your wing is dislocated, not broken," Damian stated. "If I am careful, I can put the bone back, but you will need to let the wing heal."

Damian carefully grasped the bird and feeling with his fingers he was able to find where the wing was separated. Pushing gently on the bone, Damian could feel when it slipped back into place.

The bird gave out three loud chirps then tried to flap both wings.

"Easy, you do not want to use that wing yet."

Damian grabbed a prefilled syringe and between the bird's should blades, Damian injected a small amount of sedative and within moments the bird was asleep.

'Now to bind that wing and give you something for the inflammation.'

Damian grabbed a strip of gauze and a cotton pad. He worked the wing as gently as he could and soon he had the wing immobilized. He opened the bird's beak as wide as it would go and forced a piece of a tablet that he shaved off of a larger one down into the bird's gullet. He calculated earlier the amount of painkiller and anti-inflammatory to assist the bird based on its weight. He stroked the feathers with a couple of fingers and a gentle slight smile formed on his lips. It was a smile that was often seen on Bruce, but only for one special son. Damian knew of that smile and wished his father would show him that kind of smile as well, but in his heart he knew his father would not. Damian knew that his father didn't totally trust him. To do that, he would have to totally denounce his al Ghul heritage. He didn't know if he could. His father, however, gave him a task; to save this bird . . . What did he call the bird? A Robin? A Robin saving a robin . . . Just like he tried to do for Grayson; former Robin. The irony was not lost on him.

'Father, I will do my best to save this bird. You must do the same for Grayson.'

As Damian picked up the sleeping robin and placed the bird in a box containing the soft fabric of an old, torn yellow cape, Bruce was entering Dick's hospital room to check on his eldest son. While his son slept, he had gone down to the cafeteria to get some coffee. Despite the rules, Bruce was determined to stay with Dick. When he entered the room, he found the bed empty, the window open, and a familiar figure in a hospital gown standing outside on the ledge. Bruce raced to the window to suddenly see his son jump.

"NO!"

Continues with Part 5


	6. Part 5-As The Nightwing Flies

My Sons' Eyes Are Blue, Too

By

AJ

Part 5 - As The Nightwing Flies

Dick Grayson stood on the ledge debating with the voice that worked its way into his head, frozen in place. He did not know how long he had been there. All he heard was the voice saying . . .

'JUMP! It will end it,' the voice kept saying, sounding very much like Malone's.

"No," Dick replied, tears starting to stream down his face. Something inside was realizing what that voice wanted him to do.

'JUMP!'

'NO!' This time another's voice interjected on his behalf. 'You are a Grayson, FLY!' The voice sounded like Nightwing, the former Robin; the one who helped him last time. 'FLY!'

Dick looked down to see a tree not that far from where he stood. A branch stuck out at just the right angle.

'FLY GRAYSON!' Nightwing shouted.

Dick Grayson jumped, pulled himself into a ball and flipped. The distance was farther than his mind really knew, but that didn't matter. It was as if he had wings. The fingers of his right hand grabbed the branch and he flipped around it, bringing his feet up to rest on the top. Despite the fact his left arm was in a sling that didn't stop him. As he spied a lamp post he jumped again, grabbing it and spinning around to slow his descent. As a large trailer truck passed underneath Nightwing urged Dick Grayson to jump one more time. He landed on to, but nearly rolled off the back. At the last second he grabbed the edge. Pulling himself up with one hand was the hardest part. Once on top, he laid there catching his breath, his collarbone muscles aching. His rib cage felt like it was on fire from the abuse he was giving it. The voice of Malone quieted as Nightwing urged Dick Grayson to move forward to use what skills he had to return home.

Home though for Dick Grayson wasn't the Manor, but an apartment in Gotham City's Narrows District. With his kidnapping, Bruce had to inform Commissioner Gordon about his special task force officer and his subsequent rescue. Gordon understood that Dick was going to need that time to heal. Dick was given a month of leave. And he was going to need every day of it.

Dick had to hop two more buses in order to get to the Narrows District. When he finally reached the area, his timing had to be perfect in order to land in the narrow alley between his building and the next. His apartment was on the third floor, but what he needed was on the top floor just above. Climbing the fire escape Dick keyed in a series of numbers and letters on a keypad next to a window and entered his apartment from the alley entrance. Just as he had in Bludhaven Dick had recreated the Nest. It was a smaller version of Oracle's computer center as well as his workout space and science lab. It was linked to the bat cave, the bunker under Wayne Tower, and to Mount Justice, if he needed assistance there.

Climbing into his apartment, Dick moved to an innocuous looking bookcase that stuck out into the room. He pressed on an area of the shelf hidden from view. The bookcase moved aside to reveal a spiral staircase leading to the apartment above. He climbed to the top floor and moved to a wardrobe that stood in one of the corners. He opened the door to reveal several suits, masks, gauntlets, and a variety of weapons. He didn't know if he would need them, but they always came in handy. There was one thing he did need. Dick grabbed a small hard case that he attached to the back of his weapons pack. Pulling out a uniform, Dick moved over to a nearby couch and started his preparations.

Dick removed the sling that kept his arm from being used while his collarbone knitted and his tortured muscles in the left side of his chest healed. Using surgical tape, he placed several strips along his collarbone. His ribs were already taped. And even though his arm was stiff, Dick grabbed his uniform and suited up. Taking some spirit gum Dick applied his mask.

Nightwing knew where he needed to go. He needed to go to Prudence Malone's house. It was something he wasn't looking forward to. He needed to find the fear toxin so an antidote could be created. He could feel the nightmares trying to assert themselves during his waking hours. Perhaps it was the electrum that was still left in his system that was keeping them at bay. He could at least be grateful for that. Without it, Nightwing was certain that he would have succumbed to the nightmares and Malone's voice long before that.

'It would do more than break Bruce's heart,' the part that was Nightwing said.

'He's got Damian," the part that was Dick said.

'You know that won't be enough.'

'Maybe.'

'He didn't know where to find you,' Nightwing argued. 'The last time he had Ace. This time you were taken to a storage facility. He would have recognized the house.'

'He . . . He . . . Didn't stop them . . .'

'How could he?' Nightwing argued back. 'You know this has torn him up inside at not being able to stop them. Damian feels just as guilty for not being able to get help.'

'But . . . He did,' Dick replied.

'You need to let him know,' Nightwing stated. 'Now enough arguing. Let's search for that fear toxin and hope we find it.'

'And if we don't?'

'Then we go to the GPD and get some from the evidence room.'

'And why am I referring to myself in the third person?' Dick asked.

'Because it is better than finding yourself face down on the pavement.'

'Good point.'

Nightwing silenced the voice of Dick Grayson, the insecure part of himself that had been abused and repeatedly raped, and nearly driven insane. He was Nightwing now and it was up to him to do a job, find the fear toxin and produce an antidote. For now, Nightwing represented sanity and protection. Nightwing also represented reason and inner strength.

'To be honest, my confidence was shaken because . . . of what happened. I need to get that back,' Dick thought. 'So, searching for that toxin is the only way I can think of to do that. Maybe Bruce was trying to help in his own way. In a way he did save me. He was just in costume this time when he did it. But it's been too long since I've been in action. Standing out on that ledge I figured I had two choices. I could let myself fall and follow my parents or I could continue their legacy and fly.'

Nightwing landed on the roof of the old Malone homestead, now boarded up since the raid on the property seven nights ago.

'Returning to the scene of the crime,' Nightwing thought. 'Let's just hope there's more to find than just an empty set of rooms and bad memories.'

Continues with part 6


	7. Part 6-A Father In Pursuit

My Sons' Eyes Are Blue, Too

By

AJ

Part 6 – A Father in Pursuit

Bruce entered Dick's hospital room. The room's lights were dimmed. He looked over toward the bed and saw it was empty. Had someone from the nursing staff come in and taken Dick for more tests? Bruce looked over toward the window and saw that it was open. His heart dropped to the pit of his stomach as he saw a familiar figure in a hospital gown standing outside on the narrow ledge.

'What? NO!' Bruce rushed forward just as the figure jumped. 'Dick, NO!'

Bruce reached the window to see that Dick had not jumped to his death. The young man had actually managed to catch onto a tree branch despite the fact his left arm was in a sling. Bruce watched as Dick continued to move forward and grab onto a lamppost. He then saw Dick barely land on top of a truck and almost rolled off as it passed underneath. He watched as Dick managed to grab an edge and pull himself back on top. The truck was heading East.

'What is Dick doing? Where is he going?'

Bruce tried to watch as the truck moved down the road and turned a corner, taking Dick out of Bruce's line of sight.

'I've got to find him.' Bruce thought as he raced from Dick's hospital room.

"Whoa!" Dr, Leslie Thompkins came to a sudden halt as she almost ran into the exiting billionaire. "What's the hurry? I was just coming to check on Dick. Did you get a call?"

"No," Bruce said as he pulled Dr. Leslie Thompkins into Dick's room.

"Where is he?" she asked immediately after noticing the empty bed.

Bruce nodded toward the window.

"WHAT?" Dr. Thompkins brushed past Bruce and rushed to the window leaning out to check for the remains of her patient, fearful that Dick Grayson had done the unthinkable. Breathing a sigh of relief after not seeing the young man splattered on the sidewalk below and surrounded by medical personnel, Dr. Thompkins asked, "Okay, where is he?"

"Gone," Bruce said.

"I know that. Where's he gone?"

"I don't know, Dr.,' Bruce answered though he suspected from the direction the truck had gone. "But I intend to find out." Bruce added to himself. 'And that means going after him not as Batman but as Bruce. There's no time to change.'

Bruce moved to the elevators, but instead opt for the stairs. His car was parked in the garage next door. Bruce took the stairs to where the hospital and the garage entrance were on the same level. He raced to his car as quickly as possible all the while thinking about what the specialist said. There was brain activity in those areas that produced dreams even when Dick was unconscious. Bruce suspected that Dick had once again been given fear toxin, this time enhanced to affect those areas of the brain specifically. But to cause such activity in that manner was unprecedented.

'Scarecrow, you've outdone yourself. You've created a fear toxin that goes straight to the brain centers and leaves no trace. And my son is out there where eventually whatever nightmare he's suffering it will eventually drive him insane or kill him. I've got to find Dick before it's too late.'

Bruce drove directly to Dick's apartment in the Narrows District. Instead of going inside he searched the outside for any evidence that his son had been there. A flashing light caught his attention and he looked up the fire escape. He could see an open window and someone entering the premises, but it wasn't Dick. A quick call to police headquarters brought out several squad cars and Commissioner Gordon.

"What have you got?"

"Someone entered Dick's apartment from the fire escape. He's got an alarm system on that side of the building," Bruce also explained that Dick had left the hospital with intent on going home. "If he's in there, he could be in trouble."

"I wouldn't worry too much. Remember, Dick was a police officer with the BPD before he became part of my task force. He's trained to handle such things."

"it's not like Dick to leave an open window. Plus Dick is wearing a sling for a broken collarbone. He won't be able to handle a thief."

"We'll check it out," Commissioner Gordon stated. "How did he break his collarbone?"

"He fell down the stairs, tripped over a small table in the dark."

"That's not like him. His colleagues tell him he's quite athletic."

"The table had been moved and he probably didn't see it," Bruce lied, though it had a ring of truth. Dick had not seen the table when he tripped.

As they waited Bruce was getting a bit antsy, pacing back and forth. It was apparent that if Dick was there, he should have come down to see what was going on. Or at least call down. 'Unless he was here for another reason and just left moments before hand,' Bruce surmised.

"We got the guy," an officer came out through the front followed by two others. They had a man between them in handcuffs. The man had blond hair and a scar across his chin. Bruce made a mental note to check the man's profile in the bat cave once he had the chance.

'Tried to make it out with the big screen TV."

"Good work," Commissioner Gordon said. "Was there anyone else in the apartment?"

"No."

"Did you hear that Bruce? Your boy is safe," Commissioner Gordon turned to realize he was talking to empty air.

The moment the officer said No, Bruce took off. He had to track down Dick, but this time he didn't have a former police dog to help him. He did however know his son. Just as before, Dick must have headed to the scene of the crime, the very place that Batman should have searched after taking care of Dick Grayson.

'Dick must be looking for the fear toxin,' Bruce surmised. He felt a pang of pride swell in his chest. Bruce realized then that if Dick had gone home it was to change. 'I'm looking for Nightwing then, and that means he's taken to the rooftops. He's got a long ways to go before he gets to Prudence Malone's house. I may be able to get there before him if I take the freeway. Let's just hope I'm not that far behind.'

Bruce followed the quickest path. He knew if Nightwing was going by way of the rooftops, he eventually was going to run out of high rises and have to leap from smaller building to smaller building. That meant going through at least two warehouse districts between residential, and that might also show him down. Pulling onto the highway, Bruce headed to the residential district of Brentwood. It was the closest to the Bristol area where Wayne Manor was located. He remembered there was an actual Branch Street ramp off the highway. Oakwood Avenue was just a few streets over from there. Bruce drove along the tree-lined street. He spied the house in the middle of the block. It was the only one that was boarded up. He didn't see any activity that suggested someone had been there.

'He must have entered from the back,' Bruce thought. Sudden movement caught his eye. Someone jumped down onto the roof from a nearby tree.

'So, I got here just in time,' Bruce thought.

He decided to give Nightwing time to enter the house to start the search. 'Then I'll go after him.'

Just as Nightwing entered, another figure followed the young vigilante.

'DAMN! It's a trap! I've got to warn him.'

Bruce ran toward the house and up onto the porch, but he didn't get far. Another man appeared behind him. The man must have been hiding in the bushes. The man sprayed Bruce with some colored gas. Bruce fell to the floor of the porch.

"Well. Mr. Wayne, what are you doing here? I was expecting your ward to come waltzing up those steps. Don't worry we'll make you real comfortable."

Continues with Part 7


	8. Part 7-An Abandoned Pair

My Sons' Eyes Are Blue, Too

By

AJ

Part 7 – An Abandoned Pair

As Bruce collapsed he got a good look at the man's face. "Malone? How?"

"Hadn't you paid attention to the news? I was released on bail . . . along with my friend. Say goodnight Wayne," Malone sneered. "With you out of the way, nothing will stop me from taking your son."

As Bruce slipped into unconsciousness he didn't hear Malone's last words. All he thought about was who bailed out Matthew Malone and Jasper Cage?

By the time Bruce came to, he was trussed up with his hands tied above his head. Nightwing was across from him, unconscious and hanging upside down.

'How did they get the drop on him?' Bruce wondered. Then he noticed something dripping from Nightwing's shoulder. A puddle of blood was forming right below him.

"No!' Bruce raged. 'He could bleed to death. I've got to get loose.'

Bruce worked as best he could, pulling down on the ropes to try to loosen them. He looked up to examine how the ropes were tied. He could see that the ropes were draped over a large hook in the ceiling. That worked to his advantage. If he could just start swinging . . . 'One more swing . . . Dick's better at this,' he thought. 'But if I don't get loose . . .'

Bruce was suddenly aware that the tension on the rope was gone as it slipped off the hook. He flipped over backwards to keep his hands in front. He landed in a crouch, his feet creating a loud bang as he landed on the wooden floor. Bruce froze in place. The noise that he just made might draw someone's unwanted attention. He waited for a moment of two, but no one came running to investigate. Where were Malone and Cage? Rather than take the time to answer that question, Bruce raced over to his costumed son. Nightwing was also hanging from a hook, but with him unconscious and wounded, Bruce knew he was going to need help.

'I just hope that wound isn't as bad as it looks.'

Bruce looked around to find something to stand on. There was an old table in the corner. The police didn't leave much when they cleaned the place out. Moving the table in place, Bruce climbed up and lifted Nightwing off the hook. He carefully lowered him to the floor and even though the material was tough Bruce ripped through the Kevlar like it was butter and discovered the extent of Nightwing's injury. Dick's collarbone had barely had time to heal when someone had struck him where one of the bones was now sticking through his flesh. It wasn't normally a life-threatening injury due to it's nature, but at the same time Dick could bleed to death if the wound wasn't taken care of and quickly. The only way he was going to help Dick was to get the two bones back in place. With Dick unconscious, he wasn't likely to feel any pain. Laying Dick flat on the floor, Bruce first tore a portion of his shirt from his body. Carefully grasping the broken bone, he first tried to separate the bones further to help maneuver it back into place.

"AAAAAhhhhhhhh," Nightwing cried out, but did not regain consciousness

'So much for not feeling any pain,' Bruce thought, as he continued to manipulate the bones back into position.

'He may not heal as fast as a full Talon, but he should heal faster than normal. The bones were starting to knit from what the Doctor told me before this happened.'

With the bones back in place, Bruce used the strip of cloth to create a makeshift sling. With it open, it was only going to bleed without the wound being closed. Bruce tried to pack the wound by wrapping another strip of cloth around Nightwing's shoulder. Time was running out. Where were their adversaries? They must have left them there, probably to get some supplies since the house was cleaned out.

'They probably didn't think we could escape.'

He did not know when the two men would return. Bruce surmised that their plans were probably to ransom him and if he didn't cooperate they would kill Nightwing in front of him.

'Ohhh," Nightwing was coming to.

"Nightwing . . . Dick . . ." Bruce coaxed his son.

Nightwing's eyes fluttered open. "Bruce?"

"Nightwing, can you tell me what happened? Why did . . ."

"Went to search . . . for the fear toxin." Nightwing stated. "Got struck from behind. Fell . . . Shoulder hurts . . ."

"You've broken your collarbone, this time the bone was sticking through."

"This time?" Nightwing questioned.

"You fell down the stairs at . . ."

"Oh . . . now I remember . . . Nightmare . . . Ran . . ." Nightwing replied. "The fear toxin . . . it's got to be here. We don't have much time."

"I'll search," Bruce replied. "Then I've got to get you out of here."

Bruce searched around, but he was doubtful he would find any evidence when he stepped on a loose board. It creaked under his foot. Could it be that simple? Could the police have over-looked an obvious hiding place? Bruce bent down and pried the loose board up with his fingers. The board came up part way. He placed his hand inside the small dark space. There was something hidden. It felt like a soft case. He pulled it out and opened it. The case contained several vials and a syringe.

'This has to be it,' Bruce shoved the case into his pocket and went back for Nightwing.

"Dick . . . Nightwing . . ." Bruce could see that blood quickly soaking through the makeshift bandage and into the Kevlar shirt. Nightwing had passed out again. Carefully picking him up, Bruce carried him out of the house.

'I'm surprised they didn't try to steal my car,' he thought. 'They wouldn't have gotten far anyway with all the security features.'

Bruce approached the car and repositioning his son, he pressed a thumb on the special lock. Recognizing his DNA and thumbprint, the car opened and Bruce was able to place Nightwing on the passenger seat. He buckled him in then got into the driver's seat.

'Turn phone on," Bruce said as he got in the car. "Dial the Manor, secure line."

"Wayne Manor," Alfred answered.

"Alfred, I can't explain just yet, but I need you to go to the following address," Bruce listed the number and street.

"That is one of your safe houses. May I inquire why?"

"I can't explain. Bring your medical kit, sutures and a pint of A+ blood."

"Oh dear, right away, Sir," Alfred responded. "But what about Master Damian?"

"Let him know where I've gone. He already has a task he's fulfilling for me."

"Very good, Sir. I shall be there shortly."

Bruce ended the call as he pulled into the driveway of the safe house, just three blocks away from Malone's old house. The last time he was here, he had a two-car garage built onto the property and the code added to the garage opener. He punched in the code and pulled the car into the garage. This way they would have privacy and no one would see Bruce Wayne carrying a comatose Nightwing. Entering the house through the garage's side door, Bruce carried Dick to the closest bedroom. He placed Dick on his right side then went to get whatever medical supplies he could find until Alfred arrived. He would have to remind Alfred to check all the safe houses for medical supplies, including suture kits. It seemed this one had accidently been overlooked.

"Hang on Chum, help is on the way."

Bruce carefully removed the top half of Nightwing's uniform and put it aside. He then removed his mask and was once again staring into the face of his son.

'Let's just hope the nightmares stay away at this point. You need taken care of. The fear toxin can wait until you're out of danger.'

Bruce brushed the hair out of his son's eyes. All ready a fever was setting in. 'This seems to always happen when he's injured then the injury doesn't last. Could that be the electrum in his system trying to heal him?'

Taking what medical supplies he had, Bruce removed the makeshift bandage. Upon examining the wound he didn't see any evidence of the wound trying to heal itself, not without taking any X-Ray to be sure.

'It must take time. The electrum isn't at the cellular level the way it was with Cobb. It may take several days. I'll have to keep an eye on it.'

Bruce did his best to clean the wound further to keep infection from setting in. 'I just hope Alfred will get here soon.'

Continues With Part 8


	9. Part 8-Analyzing the Affects

My Sons' Eyes Are Blue, Too

By

AJ

Part 8 – Analyzing the Affects

Alfred arrived ten minutes later and pulled his car into the garage. He made certain to take a car that didn't imply an exorbitant amount of wealth. The neighborhood that the safe house was located was considered a middle class neighborhood and someone with wealth was often sneered at.

Alfred came into the house with a few bags in tow, two of them contained a couple changes of clothing for his charges, one that contained the medical kit along with a small cooler. Alfred went back out to the car and came in carrying a large covered pot. He placed it on the stove in the kitchen area, and then turned the burner down on low. He stirred the contents then started on the other bags. He took one of the suitcases to one of the other bedrooms then entered the room where he found Bruce sitting by his son.

"He needs that medical kit now," Bruce said.

Alfred went back out to the kitchen and came back with the cooler and medical kit. He moved to the bed and proceeded to open the medical kit and pull out a suture. When he saw the wound, he nearly blanched.

"My word, what happened?" Alfred asked. "His collarbone didn't look like that when the paramedics picked him up at the Manor."

"He was struck from behind and fell. He must have hit it against something and broke it further. I tried to reset the bone . . .I've kept the wound packed, but he's lost a lot of blood. I didn't want to leave him."

"Allow me, Master Bruce," Alfred said, and he probed the area of the injury, checking Bruce's handy work. "Don't look so worried Master Bruce. Your manipulation was successful. The two parts of the bone are perfectly back together. We just need to close the wound. There is an IV stand in the hall closet. As soon as I am done suturing up the wound I shall set up the IV. There is a sling in the first aid kit in the bottom drawer in the kitchen as well as bandages. The shoulder will need to be wrapped to keep the bones and stitches in place."

Bruce helped Alfred to apply the bandages and to wrap Dick's shoulder after the butler finished suturing up the wound. Once everything was covered Dick was laid back onto the bed. Alfred added the IV, giving Dick a pint of blood. The look on Bruce's face questioned whether one pint was going to be enough.

"I brought a second pint of blood just in case," Alfred stated.

Once the second pint of blood was gone, it would be switched out for saline. Alfred also injected an antibiotic to prevent infection. Bruce placed a blanket over his wounded son and brushed the hair from his eyes one more time.

"No more nightmares," He whispered, but he knew that wasn't possible, not while the fear toxin was still in his system.

Bruce felt the soft leather case in his pocket and remembered the reason why Nightwing had gone to the house. They both thought about that night and they each tried to correct a grave mistake. Bruce's mistake was to think that the fear toxin was the same as last time. It became more apparent as the week went on. Nightwing's mistake was not watching his back and thinking the house would be totally abandoned. Even so, if Bruce hadn't gone after Nightwing, Dick would have bleed to death. And the biggest mistake wasn't even their fault. Matthew Malone and Jasper Cage were the ones that made that one. Their mistake was leaving them alone. That gave Bruce time to act.

"Alfred, keep an eye on him. I'm heading back to the cave."

"I have your uniform, Sir," Alfred stated.

"Thanks, but I have to return not only to check on Damian, I have to analyze these vials," He pulled the soft leather case from his pocket. "The sooner I can create an anti-toxin the better for Dick. I'll return as soon as I can."

"Very good, Sir," Alfred replied.

"I'll take your car."

Alfred tossed Bruce the keys to the car he had driven into the city. Bruce left Dick in Alfred's capable hands, knowing that the butler would take good care of his eldest son and headed back to the Manor. Once he arrived he went straight to the cave. In his left hand, he carried the soft leather case containing the vials and the syringe. Bruce moved to the lab area and opened the leather case. He pulled out one of the vials and poured the contents into a test tube. He placed the tube in a rack then took a long narrow eyedropper and squeezing the rubber top, he took some of the liquid and placed that on a glass petri dish. Bruce then placed the dish into a drawer and pressed a few buttons. By analyzing the liquid he hoped to learn its components in order to compare them with Scarecrow's other fear toxins that he had on record. Once analyzed, he could begin to find an antitoxin. Hallucinogenic drugs weren't easy to clear from the body's system. Bruce remembered the times he and Dick ran into the Scarecrow and his fear toxin. Most of the time he used a powder or a gas that he developed. The affects were usually transitory. Bruce found ways to counter act the drugs with anti-gas pills to minimize the affects. When Dick was 15 that was the first time he had to develop an antidote to a fear toxin that was injected into the system. The antidote acted like a detox, but it could not prevent the flashbacks that Dick had. Only time and counseling did that. Bruce hoped that this time he would get it right.

Bruce waited patiently for the analyzer to finish. He pulled out an old card from his filing cabinet and read the contents. Some of the information he still kept in hard copy form. It would take years to enter all of the information into the computer. Batman made it a part of Robin's job, starting with his first Robin, entering the information about a current case as well as any related cases from the past. It was tedious work, but it was also a way to help Robin become more familiar with his case files, no matter who wore the Robin uniform.

Reading the card, he filed in his mind the components from the previous liquid sample. That fear toxin was made up of extracts from peyote, ergotamine, and psilocybin. All were hallucinogens that lasted anywhere from a few hours up to 12. Ergotamine was the main substance found in LSD. Peyote was used by Native Americans to induce visions during a ritual, such as a sweat lodge, but what could cause the feeling that there was no escape? Bruce remembered Dick screaming those very words when the nightmares were at their worst. Just as Bruce was about to do more research, the analyzer gave out several beeps then spit out an index card. Bruce chose to use the old analyzer because of its reliability. With concrete physical evidence, it was able to pretty much analyze anything.

Bruce picked up the card and read the content. Strange, only one additional component was listed. Ayahuasca, a plant found in South America used by the native tribes, also for ritual purposes. Bruce moved to the computer and typed in the name. He read about its origin and then about its affect on the human brain, overwhelming misery, no one to help you, no way to escape, everywhere darkness, a powerful additive to an arsenal of terror.

'All right, how do I counteract this?' Bruce thought.

"Father?" Damian approached on silent footsteps, even though Bruce was aware of his presence.

"Yes, Damian."

"How is Grayson?"

How could he answer his youngest son? Dick was doing fine when he suddenly jumped out of a hospital window four stories above the ground, swinging from a tree and landing on top of a truck, technically running away to find the fear toxin and was caught and hurt again? Bruce gave out a sigh.

"Dick is . . . safe."

"Father that does not answer my question."

Bruce moved back over to the analyzer and set it to search for an antidote, this time adding more of the liquid for a larger sample. "How is the bird?" Bruce asked, changing the subject.

"The bird is healing," Damian stated. "Why did you have me take care of such a bird?"

"It is a means to help you heal," Bruce said. "I know you've been feeling guilty about not preventing what happened. You did what you could under the circumstances."

"But I did not prevent him from getting hurt. I should have tried to save him."

"You are well trained, Damian, but you didn't have any equipment to aid you. You were in your civilian clothes. As a civilian we can only do what we can with what is available to us. And even then we can't act in the same way. That could compromise our secret identities. You did what you could. And I gave you the bird to take care of because it needed attention and I did not want to see another Robin die." The last few words were nearly whispered.

"The robin is symbolic," Damian surmised. "Father, who did you see die?"

Bruce swallowed hard. Except for the obvious that Damian already knew, Bruce wanted to say, 'Too many,' but didn't voice the words. His son did not know the number of times he nearly lost all of his Robins, no he did lose one and that one was still lost to him. "Jason," Bruce replied.

"Todd?" Damian questioned. "But Todd is not dead. He is with the Outsiders."

"Yes, Todd is with the Outsiders," Bruce replied. "But Jason . . . Jason is still lost to us."

Damian looked at his father confused.

"You will have to talk to Dick. That is all I can say on the subject. I need to get this antitoxin completed and you have a robin to care for."

Realizing that he was being dismissed, Damian didn't push it. "Yes, Father."

Bruce leaned back to wait and to ponder once again, who bailed out Matthew Malone and Jasper Cage?

Continues with Part 9


	10. part 9-Putting the Pieces Together

My Sons' Eyes Are Blue, Too

By

AJ

Part 9 – Putting the Pieces Together

Bruce moved to the computer and began examining the week's important news. Recognizing Malone and Cage, Bruce concentrated his search on those two. He first searched on the arrest record. They were temporarily placed in the holding cell in the court house to await arraignment, but it was postponed so they were moved to the city jail. They were there only three days. Bruce found the record showing when bail had been posted for the two men. Malone's bail was posted first. Then Cage was released the next day. Both times cash had been paid. Bruce scrutinized a copy of the receipt for the release of Jasper Cage.

'Where did Malone get $100,000 dollars?' Bruce asked himself. 'Let me look at the receipt for Malone. That might give me a clue.' Bruce pulled up a copy of the receipt for Malone. His eyes narrowed when he saw the name, Ralph Zucco. Ralph Zucco, the man who tried to kill Dick when he was just a boy, trying to take revenge for the death of his brother after Tony Zucco was convicted for the murder of John and Mary Grayson.

'The state didn't waste any time with him. They sentenced Tony Zucco to death just three months after his trial. Ralph Zucco was convicted of kidnapping and attempted murder. He was sentenced for 20 years. How could he post bail for his nephew?

The answer came in a notice that had been previously over looked.

'Ralph Zucco was released on parole a year ago. He violated parole when he disappeared six weeks later. I wonder where you went to Ralph Zucco. Where did the money come from and who delivered it in order so your nephew was bailed out? Or did you show up in Gotham to do the dead yourself. I wonder if there are any fingerprints on that receipt. That would make you an accessory and I'll have you, too. The signature seems to match, but I need to know for sure. Looks like I'm paying a nighttime visit to the lock-up tonight.'

Bruce was kicking himself. If he had investigated further, his sons would not have suffered as they have this week. He would have discovered sooner that Dick's nightmares were due to the altered fear toxin and maybe he would not have had to suffer for a week.

'This is my fault for not collecting the fear toxin right after I saved him from . . . Now Cage and Malone are out there and I have to stop them. Where are you? They better not show their faces or I'll be on them so fast they wished they'd never left Blackgate. And Ralph Zucco, where did you go after bailing out your nephew. Are you involved in all of this? I should have . . . Dick would say there's no point in 'should haves' . . . He's right. I need to focus on what I can do right now.'

The analyzer gave out its customary ping and spit out another index card. Bruce looked at it and got right to work on mixing the appropriate ingredients to create the antitoxin. He placed some of the mixture into a special dehydrator to turn the liquid into a powder to later be pressed into tablets. For now, he placed the remaining liquid into a plastic IV bag and sealed it shut. Attaching an IV tube to the bag, Bruce gathered everything and headed out of the cave, back through the Manor, and back out to the car.

/

Dick was in the middle of another nightmare. Thrashing about., he nearly pulled out the IV as well as nearly ripping his stitches.

"Master Richard!" Alfred had left for only a moment to check on the pot of soup he placed on the stove. "Master Richard, you are having a nightmare you must wake up."

"NO! NO! I've got to escape! Got to help Bruce! They'll kill him!"

"Master Richard . . . Master Bruce is all right," Alfred said, trying to comfort the young man, but the look on the young man's face told Alfred he would not be comforted. The young man, though his eyes were open they had the look of seeing something that wasn't there.

"No, I . . . I . . . failed," Dick quailed in misery, as if he was talking to himself. "They . . . They caught him . . . Malone . . . Jasper . . ."

Then Alfred saw a terrible change come over Dick Grayson's face. Rage and fear were etched into the young man's features. What kind of images was Dick Grayson seeing?

"NOOOOO!" Dick cried out at the top of his lungs, "Don't! DON'T!"

"Master Richard! Snap out of it!" Alfred grabbed Dick, pinning his arms to the bed to prevent him from harming himself further as well as trying to keep him from lashing out at whatever he was hallucinating. It wasn't hard in Dick's weakened state.

"LET ME GO!" Dick growled.

"Alfred!" Bruce came running into the room carrying the IV bag and saw that Alfred was holding Dick down on the bed, trying to restrain him.

"Master Bruce, I can't wake him."

"That's because he's not asleep any more. He's hallucinating through his dreams whether he's awake or not and it's when he's most vulnerable," Bruce explained.

Bruce exchanged places with Alfred and handed the butler the IV. "I discovered the antitoxin. Attach this to the saline. Hopefully it will start working immediately."

"Should he be receiving this much? That's nearly a half a pint."

"That's what the analyzer recommended for someone who received an overdose with this type of fear toxin. Malone pumped him full of that junk. It's going to take just as much to clear it from his mind. It needs to circulate through his system."

"We'll need to trade places," Alfred stated.

As soon as Alfred released Dick, Bruce lifted Dick up in a sitting position so he could sit behind him on the bed. He held Dick in a tight embrace, pinning his arms to keep him from harming himself or anyone else. Alfred hooked up the second IV and adding it to the drip line.

In Dick's confused state, he believed it was Malone that was holding him. Anger and rage filled him and he tried to lash out. "LET ME GO, MALONE! I'LL KILL YOU! YOU BASTARD! DON'T YOU DARE HARM BRUCE!"

"Hush! Dick it's me. I'm all right." Bruce spoke close to Dick's ear. "I'm all right. You saved us both," Bruce lied. Though he had been the one to save them. He knew Dick needed this. "Nightwing . . . you did it. You saved both of us from the trap. You found the toxin under the floor. You gave it to me. You were hurt. You're safe."

Alfred and Bruce watched and waited as the antitoxin blended with the saline and entered into Dick's circulatory system. Within fifteen minutes, even though Dick continued to struggle against the imaginary bond that held him, the tightness on his face wasn't nearly so pronounced. Bruce continued whispering into Nightwing's ear, and Dick slowly relaxed, his body no longer ridged with tension.

"Is it wise to tell him he was the one to save you?" Alfred asked.

"He needs it Alfred. He'll know the truth soon enough. He needs something to believe in and to fight for."

As the tension left Dick's body, he slowly relaxed against Bruce's chest. Exhaustion from the past week was catching up to him in a big way. Bruce whispered one more set of words into his son's ear. "No more bad dreams, my son."

Bruce carefully maneuvered Dick's body until he was lying back on the bed. This time Dick fell into a deep natural sleep. He would not wake for several hours.

"Alfred, on second thought thanks for bringing my uniform. I'm going to need it tonight."

"It is still several hours until sundown. I brought some soup and I can make something to go with it."

"Thanks Alfred, that sounds real good. I guess I am hungry."

"Let me see what there is in the pantry and I shall bring you a meal. I take it you do not wish to leave Master Dick's side just yet?"

"You know me too well."

"Perhaps I should bring Master Damian here. He should not be left alone at the Manor."

"No, Damian is taking care of something for me," Bruce said.

"I take it, it is the bird you were holding after Master Richard's accident."

"You noticed," Bruce's eyes became wide.

"I could not help but notice. You held the bird just as if it was one of your sons," Alfred pointed out.

"I gave the bird to Damian to take care of," Bruce answered. "He's good with animals. It seems to also calm his troubled spirit. He might be able to repair any damage . . ."

Bruce's phone went off at that moment. He looked at the caller's name and saw that it was Dr. Leslie Thompkins.

"Bruce, what in the hell is going on? You better bring my patient back here or I'll have you up on charges."

Continues with Part 10


	11. Part 10-A Father Reliving The Nightmare

My Sons' Eyes Are Blue, Too

By

AJ

Part 10 – A Father Reliving the Nightmare

Bruce put on his uniform then left the safe house after dark. There weren't that many tall buildings in the combination residential, warehouse, and small business district in the suburb of Brentwood. Traveling over rooftops was going to take longer than he liked. Luckily he had stored various, duplicate equipment at several safe houses; including a remote to call the batmobile from the bat cave when he needed it.

Batman stopped on top of the roof of a storage facility. As he waited for the batmobile to arrive, he spied a familiar image on the side of a sign. It was a sticker in the shape of a bat, similar to one of the stickers he used when he searched for Robin in Catwoman's layer. Though that was some years ago, the memories were strong as yesterday. Examining the sticker, Batman realized that this must have been the place where Malone and Jasper had first taken Dick and Damian. Knowing that the batmobile would take several minutes, Batman climbed down to examine the area. It wasn't hard to locate where Damian placed other stickers leaving a trail. Following them in reverse, Batman located the very storage locker where Dick and Damian were held.

Batman could feel his heart rate quicken and the anger rising as he stared at the very door sporting another of Damian's bat stickers. It was less than ten days since both had been held at this very location. There was still police tape over the door and over a second door opposite the other.

'Tim must have placed it here to be certain no one entered and disturbed any evidence. Damian mentioned about being carried out of one storage locker and into another by a man named Carson.'

Deep inside the part that was Bruce Wayne, the man was grateful that Damian had used his head and found a way to escape and to get help for his captured brother, even though it wasn't enough. Dick continued to be Malone and Jasper's prisoner until Batman rescued him right in the middle of the act . . . Batman shook the images from his head. They were still too raw in his mind.

'He's safe. He's no longer going through that,' Batman thought. 'Even so, I have to see everything for myself.'

Batman removed the police tape and opened the door to the darkened storage room. He flipped on the night vision lenses of his cowl and stepped inside. The first thing he saw were the chains hanging down from the ceiling and then the chains connected to the floor. He could see spots of dried blood where Dick must have been chained as well . . . Dick's blood. Batman's lips became a hard line and once again the rage threatened to take over. He quickly took images of what he saw in the color spectrum. The images when printed would appear as bright as day. His lenses also recorded the fact that the blood on the floor matched that of his son, Dick Grayson. His eyes fell on the laptop next and the aborted bomb that had been set to destroy the incriminating evidence.

Batman moved over to the computer and turned the laptop on. The operating system immediately opened to the directory where the stored files were that would reveal what had been done to his sons. Batman opened one of the earlier files and saw both Damian and Dick being brought into the room. Both were unconscious.

"Put him over there. I have a couple of friends coming later," the voice of Malone could be heard. "Chain the other up. When he comes to, we can start."

He watched as Dick was trussed up . . . chained in place while Damian lay on the floor up against the wall near the door. Batman opened another file, this one revealing the first wave of torture Dick had endured.

_. . . __"Oh, this toxin isn't exactly like the one Scarecrow whipped up nine years ago. It's been improved. Though it does have some of old Strawbag's mix, it has a few extra ingredients, ones that I think you will find quite addictive."_

_"NO!" Dick tried to struggle, but it was no use. With him hanging and his hands and feet zip tied he had no way to avoid the syringe. Dick felt the sting of the needle and the toxin entering his system. It wasn't long before the hallucinations and the nightmare images were assaulting his mind. He recognized them from before, but a few new ones were added from his more recent memories, the owls once again assaulted his senses. He found himself back in that labyrinth this time, fighting every owl trying to rip him with razor sharp talons. "AHHHHHH," Dick cried out, even though the talons weren't real. It seemed he was wrong about the toxin not working._

_"FIGHT IT! YOU HAVE TO!" Damian cried out._

_"That's enough from you," Matthew Malone slapped Damian across the face._

_Damian tried to kick out, but he didn't have the leverage or position to make his kick be effective. At that moment, there was a knock on a door hidden in the shadows._

_"Enter," Malone called, and he glanced over to see whom it was that knocked. He nodded as he recognized the two men. "Welcome Carson, Jasper."_

_"We got your message. Nice place you got here, Malone," one of the two men said._

_"Less likely that it will be raided. No neighbors to complain. There are enough of them and we're far enough from the main office so no one will hear a thing. And the only access is through the corridor and that door."_

_"We heard you had something good for us," the other said. They were former cohorts from Black Gate Prison._

_"Right this way. I like you to meet an old friend of mine." Malone slapped Dick Grayson on the shoulder causing the young man to flinch away from the touch. "I think you'll both like what I have in store. I have a couple of really nice live ones, the kind that will even fight back." . . ._

A deep smoldering rage filled him. Jasper Cage and Matthew Malone were out on bail as if none of this ever happened. Before he ended up destroying the very thing he needed to convict the two men, Batman slammed the lid down on the laptop. He unplugged it from its power source, wrapping the cord around the case, and carried it out to the waiting batmobile.

Even though Gordon and the GPD had a second laptop as well as other evidence to convict Matthew Malone and Jasper Cage of kidnapping and rape, there wasn't enough evidence in regard to Damian having been kidnapped as well. This particular laptop proved otherwise since Malone was stupid enough to record everything and save it digitally. There was one problem. Since their release where were Malone and Cage? It was as if both men had vanished after capturing Bruce and Nightwing at Prudence Malone's old house.

'I still need to determine if Ralph Zucco was the man who paid the bailiff, at least when it came to his nephew,' Batman thought. 'Malone could have persuaded his uncle to lend him the money to release Cage, but where did the two men vanish after . . .'

Batman looked over at the computer now resting in the co-pilot's seat. Something didn't feel right about this whole thing; remembering finding him and Nightwing in that abandoned house.

'Malone and Cage were no longer interested in Wayne Enterprises, otherwise they wouldn't have left us alone. They also didn't know that Dick is Nightwing. They wanted me out of the way.'

Batman's eyes narrowed at the conclusion he was reaching.

"Alfred," Batman called on the secure safe house frequency. "Alfred."

"Here Master . . . Batman. It took me a moment to find the communications terminal."

"Alfred, get back to the Manor. Damian could be in danger."

"What about Master . . ."

"Call Tim. He's been staying at Dick's apartment though he wasn't there when Dick ran away from the hospital to change . . . He might be back there now. He needs to know what's going on."

"I shall send Master Timothy to the Manor right away."

"Thanks Alfred. I just hope we're not too late."

While Batman was taking crucial evidence to Gordon, Alfred called Tim Drake and explained the situation as best he could on a partial secure line.

"Are you sure, Alfred?" Tim questioned the butler.

"Yes, Master Timothy. I am at the safe house in Brentwood. You must get to the Manor as soon as possible."

"And you think the demon . . . that is . . . Damian . . . You think he is in trouble?"

"Master Timothy, I would not call you if it wasn't serious."

"You're right Alfred, I'm leaving now."

"Hurry Master Timothy. Damian's life may be at stake."

Tim raced down the stairs to the garage level of the apartment building. Dick kept several motorcycles on hand, one in particular that Dick allowed Tim access to during emergencies. It was that motorcycle that Tim road when Dick's screams got too much for him to bear. He also took his Red Robin uniform to assist Bruce in patrolling Gotham City while Bruce was dealing with his adopted brothers.

Tim had done his best to be there for Bruce and for Dick, but the constant nightmares causing Dick to scream out in anguish had taken its toll. It's not that he didn't care for Dick, he did. Tim also knew he wasn't the person that Dick needed. He felt it best to stay out of everyone's way until things got better. He didn't expect to get a call from Alfred asking for his help in regards to Damian. Now, Tim almost wished he had paid more attention after what happened. He could have been doing research for Bruce. Apparently things weren't over yet. Tim hoped when he got to the Manor he would find the little demon in one piece.

Continues with Part 11

_**A/N: . . . Small piece taken from My Father's Eyes Are Blue**_


	12. Part 11-Sweeter Dreams

My Sons' Eyes Are Blue, Too

By

AJ

Part 11 Sweeter Dreams And The Price For Justice

"Bruce! Bruce Thomas Wayne, ANSWER ME!" Dr. Leslie Thompkins yelled in the phone. She had just gotten through to what she thought was Bruce Wayne when everything went silent. It was as if the call had dropped, but the line was still connected. "BRUCE WAYNE I SWEAR T YOU . . . "

". . . Dr. Leslie?" Alfred answered having found Bruce's phone sitting on a nearby table in the living area of the safe house.

"Alfred, what are you doing on Bruce's phone?"

"My apologies, Master Bruce had an emergency he needed to handle."

"Alfred, that's no excuse. He left me hanging here. If you're there with him then you must know where my patient is."

"Your patient? Which patient would that be?" Alfred feigned ignorance.

"You know which patient, now where is he?"

"If you mean Master Richard, he is safe."

"Is he at that Manor?" Leslie asked trying to figure out where Dick Grayson had gone after Bruce showed her that her patient had flown the coop . . . literally out the window.

"No, Doctor, he is not."

"I know Richard Grayson as an apartment . . ."

" . . . He is not there either," Alfred said interrupting Dr. Leslie's train of thought.

"There where . . ." Leslie hesitated and realized that Alfred could not say anything more because they weren't on a secure line. "Alfred, I don't care at this point where you are or if he's even with you. I want my patient back at Gotham Memorial within the next two hours."

"I shall do my best Doctor, but at the moment your patient is sleeping."

"Well, I wouldn't want you to disturb him," Leslie answered. "Jst get my patient back here so I can check him and have him properly discharged."

"Very well Doctor. We shall do our best to get him there as soon as Master Bruce returns."

Alfred closed Bruce's cell phone and shook his head. 'Master Bruce, I taught you better manners than that. You do not leave a lady waiting, especially on the phone. It looks like you need a refresher course.'

Alfred moved into his grandson's bedroom and moved to the sleeping your man. It had been only two hours since they hooked up the IV drip for the antitoxin. The bag was nearly empty. Alfred pulled up a chair to watch the young man sleeping. He noticed that Dick Grayson's face didn't look nearly so tense. Before, within an hour after falling sleep Dick would become restless, his face pinched with pain and tension. Then he would start to mutter in his sleep. And soon after that the screams would come and the look of sheer terror. Alfred recalled Bruce rushing into Master Richard's bedroom to comfort the young man. Now, after two hours, Dick was still blissfully and mercifully asleep.

"No more nightmares," Alfred recalled what Bruce had said. 'I just hope that Master Bruce's words are enough to keep the nightmares at bay and that the nights of terror are gone. I do not believe your spirit would have taken much more, Master Richard. Sweet dreams, my boy.'

/

Batman arrived at Police Headquarters with the computer. He took his grappling hook and shot up to Commissioner Gordon's office. Retracting the line, he landed on the ledge then entered through the window.

"You could have called," Commissioner Gordon stated. "What is it this time?"

"I have more evidence that will put Matthew Malone and Jasper Cage behind bars."

"Are you aware they were released on bail?"

"Yes," Batman replied. "If had gotten this evidence to you sooner, bail would have been denied, and then Malone would not have contacted his Uncle to bail him out."

"His Uncle? Who is his Uncle?"

"A man who should not have been released or at least should have been watched more closely."

"You know when a man pays his debt, he must be released," Gordon stated.

"I learned that man broke parole," Batman stated.

"How do you know?" Gordon asked.

"I have my sources," Batman answered. He did not want Gordon knowing that he was hacking into the police files. It would not go well. "I need to confirm that the man who released Matthew Malone was Ralph Zucco and where he acquired $100,000."

"Ralph Zucco . . . Are you certain?"

"He was the man who broke parole. He disappeared afterward."

"And you think he showed up in Gotham to bail out his nephew," Gordon stated.

"He also lent his nephew the same amount of money to bail out Jasper Cage."

"I don't understand," Gordon stated. "Where did they get that kind of money?"

"I suspect that Ralph Zucco may have hidden part of his brother's fortune in some off shore account."

"That could account for it," Gordon stated. "When Tony Zucco was arrested and his assets seized, there wasn't as much money as we thought he had stashed away."

"His wife also syphoned off money so she could establish a different life outside of her husband's dealings and send her son to law school. We know the rest."

"So you think that Ralph Zucco is involved?"

"Matthew Malone and Jasper Cage were being held over arraignment in the kidnapping of Richard Grayson and Damian Wayne and also for the rape of Richard Grayson."

"Damian Wayne you said?" Gordon questioned. "I was not aware that Damian Wayne had been kidnapped. When we arrested Malone and Cage, you had rescued Dick Grayson. There were no other prisoners."

"That is because Damian Wayne had escaped and found the means to alert me," Batman confirmed. "This proves that Damian Wayne was also taken, though Cage and Malone weren't aware whom they also had." Batman held up the computer. He then proceeded to open it and turn the machine on. He pressed a few keys and opened the two files that he had viewed earlier.

Batman watched Gordon's reaction with a slight satisfied grin as each video revealed their contents. He could see that the man was appalled at what had been done to Dick Grayson and what they were planning on doing to Damian Wayne.

"Do you think Mr. Wayne would allow me to speak to his son about this?"

"You will have to ask him, but I do not believe there will not be a problem," Batman replied. "Mr. Wayne would want justice for both his sons." Underneath the cowl, Bruce was nodding his head. He would make it an assurance that there would be not problem with Gordon talking to Damian.

"I do have one question," Gordon stated. "Who is the man named Carson and where is he?"

"Red Robin and Robin took him to the Brentwood precinct. It seemed Carson had violated his parole and was sent back to Black Gate Prison."

"What about Jasper Cage?" Gordon asked.

"As you know Cage and Malone were arrested together. It would be up to the courts to decide if any parole was violated on both Malone and Cage."

Gordon sat at his desk his head in his hands. "This is an absolute fiasco. With what you are telling me, they had violated the conditions of their parole, but someone screwed up and allowed them to post bail."

"Those three men could not have served their sentences," Batman pointed out.

"You mean Malone, Cage, and Carson," Gordon confirmed. "From what you are telling me, all three of these men had been released early. Let me check to see why."

Gordon dialed the number to Black Gate Prison. "Let me speak to Warden Wilkens." A few minutes went by when the man he requested answered on the other side of the line.

"Warden Wilkens here."

"Warden, this is Commissioner Gordon. I have a couple of questions. They are about three of your prisoners."

"Which three?"

Gordon gave the Warden their names.

"Oh yes, I do remember those three," the Warden explained how three prisoners who had not finished out their sentences, were released without going through the proper channels. "Malone assisted with some of the prisoners who filed complaints . . . Though those complaints are still pending. Cage and Carson . . . I'm sorry to say they weren't supposed to be released, but with the over crowding, it's possible they somehow slipped through the cracks."

As Batman listened to the conversation, he could not help wonder where Malone and Jasper were since Carson was back at Black Gate. With their bail paid, Malone and Cage seemed to have disappeared. Even Ralph Zucco hadn't stuck around, but something in Batman's gut told him that Malone and Cage weren't through. Batman recalled the look in Malone's eyes. They were like a wild animal possessed. He had clung onto Dick with a fierceness that almost rivaled the Joker in his intensity.

'Dick,' Bruce's eyes narrowed behind the cowl. 'Malone isn't going after Damian he's going after Dick, but Dick's at the safe house. At least I sent Tim to check on Damian. Still, where are Malone and Cage? Something doesn't feel right about all of this, and I can't put my finger on why.'

Continues with Part 12


	13. Part 12-Waking From A Bad Dream

My Sons' Eyes Are Blue, Too

By

AJ

Part 12 – Waking From A Bad Dream

Dick Grayson's eyes shot open. He had been dreaming something, but he wasn't quite sure what it was. He knew it was about Bruce but the dream was quickly fading when suddenly he realized . . . 'I'm . . . Not dead . . . I'm alive and the voice . . . The dreams . . . The nightmares . . . they're gone . . .'

He tried to get up when he realized his arm was in a sling.

'What happened? . . . Wait . . . This isn't my room. Where am I?'

Panic set in as he started to scramble from the bed, a familiar figure came into the room carrying an IV bag of saline.

"Master Richard, you are awake." Alfred said.

"Alfred . . . Where am I?"

"We are in the safe house in Brendwood District."

That name sounded familiar but he had other pressing questions that he wanted answers for. "How did I get here?"

"You do not remember?"

"Should I?" Dick asked. "I don't even know how I got here." Dick's breath hitched as he tried to shift upward on the bed to sit up against the headboard.

"Easy Master Richard, you will pull out your stitches."

"Stitches? Alfred, what happened?"

Alfred looked over at the young man as he removed the empty saline bag and started to replace it with a new one.

"You were injured," Alfred replied though he didn't really want to go into full detail as to how the injuries came about.

"How?" Dick asked. "Please, I need to know. What happened?"

Alfred gave a sigh. He realized Dick wasn't about to let his questions go. He was just as stubborn as his father. "First of all, what do you remember, Master Richard?"

Dick's brow knitted together as he tried to focus his thoughts. "I remember having nightmares and Bruce trying to comfort me . . . then the nightmares got worse . . ."

"They did indeed get worse," Alfred whispered. "You tried to run away and you fell down the stairs due to my negligence . . . I apologize Master Richard. I should have . . ."

"Alfred, whatever happened, I'm sure it wasn't your fault."

"That is so kind of you to say so, but if I had not moved the small table in the upstairs hall, you would not have tripped over it and fallen . . . then having gone to the hospital . . . "

"Wait, hospital?" Images of being on a ledge and jumping came to him. Several other images flashed though his mind, one in particular. A feeling of dread came over him. "Where's Bruce?" Dick asked. The image was so strong in his mind. It was an image of Bruce tied up and hanging from the ceiling of a familiar but empty house. The image was odd, as if he was seeing it upside down. The ache in his shoulder seemed to verify that the image was real . . . just before he passed out. Passed out? What caused him to pass out? "Alfred, you've got to tell me where Bruce is. He could be in trouble."

"Master Bruce is safe. It was he who brought you here."

"Wait . . . Bruce . . . saved me?" Dick questioned confused. "How?"

"He did not say," Alfred replied.

Dick thought for a moment going over everything in his mind, remembering something he wasn't sure of. He vaguely remembered pushing Bruce away and the look on his face . . . Then another horrendous nightmare driving him to escape the darkness . . . suffocating . . . 'Then I did trip . . .that wasn't a dream.' What he remembered the most was the look on Bruce's face. 'He never looked that . . . helpless before . . . that hurt. 'Oh Bruce I'm sorry . . . I . . . I didn't mean . . . to hurt you . . . It was the nightmares . . . The nightmares,' Dick realized since he found himself here that there were no more nightmares, that somehow they were gone. "Alfred . . . Did Bruce . . .Did he find . . . the anti . . ."

"Yes, Master Richard," Alfred said. "He found the antitoxin. Your mind should be clear, but we will need to check it to be sure."

'He did it . . .' Dick thought. 'He really did it. But what about Malone and Jasper?' Dick remembered what had been done to him and his eyes narrowed. 'Are they . . . Are they still in jail?"

Remembering that very night so vividly, his knees instinctively pulled up to his chest, trying to curl up into a ball, and he tried to keep from shaking. 'Twenty-four years old and I can't even shake this. I feel like that eight year old boy who lost his parents, and I'm still dealing with that every spring.' Dick thought for a moment then realized. 'I've been violated, that's . . . that's why . . . I've had injuries that should have made me feel that way, but . . . they didn't. Why is this making me feel . . . so . . . vulnerable?' Another voice, the voice that aided him in escaping another fate stated, 'Because you were always protected from that kind of harm.'

'Protected? By whom . . .'

"You know . . .'

'Bruce . . . And Batman,' Dick recalled. 'He always kept me from cases where something like this could happen . . . but this time . . . My God . . . This has to be killing him . . . Or really pissing him off. But why isn't he here?' Dick asked himself, but it wasn't the adult who was asking. It was that frightened boy that still needed the adult, the guardian of his dreams . . . And he thought he knew why. 'Because I rejected him . . . Ah hell . . . I've got to find him . . . Tell him I didn't mean it . . .'

"Master Richard, I know that look," Alfred stated. "And I forbid you to get out of that bed."

"I've got to find him Alfred," Dick said, he voice growing stronger. "I have to."

"Master Richard, you have a broken collarbone, a dislocated shoulder, and several cracked ribs. You cannot go looking for Master Bruce, not in your condition."

"That's never stopped me before," Dick said as he checked the state of his injuries. He sensed even though Alfred was technically correct about his collarbone, he could tell that the bones were knitting. It was a weird sensation to be able to feel ones insides. 'Must be the electrum. So, that's what it means to be a Talon. I guess I wouldn't mind being one, but I just don't like the idea of having to be put to sleep with the cold,' he thought remembering what Bruce had done to Cobb. 'I like being in the snow.'

The dislocated shoulder was nearly healed. There was some inflammation, but not enough to hamper his movement. The collarbone and the torn muscles and ligaments around it would be another story. He next sensed his ribs. Those were nearly healed themselves. If they were broken, that would be a different story. 'I wonder if I can focus on healing everything,' Dick thought. 'Maybe if I meditate.'

"I will not let you jeopardize your health, Master Richard."

Dick did not seem to hear Alfred. A plan formed in his mind at that moment.

"Master Richard, are you listening to me? I will not allow you to jeopardize your health or cause more harm to yourself. You need to rest."

"You're probably right. Can I have something to eat? I'm kind of hungry," And Dick did realize he was hungry, ravenously so. He had not eaten in days. "I'll get some rest afterward, I promise."

"I shall bring you a bowl of soup with some grilled cheese sandwiches, right away Master Richard."

"You remembered," Dick exclaimed.

"I have never forgotten," the Butler admonished.

Dick watched the butler leave to attend to Dick's meal when the young man swiftly moved to the door and on silent footsteps entered the hall. He remembered the layout of this particular safe house, having been here when he was fifteen. There was one problem. He had to get past Alfred.

'There's got to be another way out,' Dick thought

He hadn't been to the front of the safe house or where there were bedrooms. To tell the truth, he barely explored this place the last time. He didn't know if he had enough time to search for anther exit. Sure enough Alfred made enough noise to warn Dick that he was approaching. Dick ran back to the bedroom he found himself in and quickly got back into bed.

"Here we are Master Richard," Alfred said as he placed the tray over Dick's lap. On the tray was the promised bowl of soup and different grilled cheese sandwiches, their crusts cut off and placed on a separate plate.

"You really did remember everything," Dick said, a smile forming on his lips as his stomach announced that it was hungry.

"Of course," Alfred replied. "Now eat up. And if you wish for more, there is plenty where that came from."

Dick did as Alfred commanded and soon after he started to yawn. His eyelids grew heavy and he swiftly fell asleep. His final thoughts were that Alfred had tricked him.

Alfred looked down on the sleeping young man. "I must apologize, Master Richard. I did not want to trick you like that, but I had no choice. I know you would want to go after Master Bruce. I could not allow that with your injuries. I just hope you'll forgive me when you awaken."

Alfred cleaned away the dishes and placed a blanket over his charge. He then went back to the kitchen area to prepare himself a meal then to clean up.

'I pray that everything is all right, that Master Bruce returns safely. And I hope Master Timothy finds Master Damian is well.'

/

Damian picked up the box that contained the robin with the dislocated wing. He was about to enter the Manor from the stairs leaving to the cave when he heard voices.

"I want Wayne's brat. He's mine!"

'That sounds like Malone," Damian listened. 'He's out of jail? How did he get here? He must be right outside the clock. '

"Instead of taking Wayne's kid, why don't we ransom Wayne?"

'Jasper Cage, too?' Damian's eyes narrowed.

"And have Batman down on us like last time?" Malone argued. "Forget it. I want Grayson. He's mine and I intend to have him."

"What about that Nightwing fella?"

"I wouldn't worry about him. He's not going after anyone. You hit him hard enough I just bet he'll bleed out, and that's one less crime fighter the underworld will have to worry about."

Damian held back a growl when he heard about Nightwing. If they killed him, Cage and Malone won't be able to fine a deep enough hole to hide in. What they didn't realize was that Nightwing and Dick Grayson were the same person.

"Maybe we should just take what we can and blow this joint." Jasper tried to persuade Malone one more time. "I bet Wayne's got loot hidden around here somewhere."

"I want Dicky Boy," Malone said. "You have to admit he is one sweet ride. Better than the rest of those bitches back in Black Gate."

"You're right about that. I wouldn't mind having another taste of him."

"Then it's settled. Once we have Dicky Boy we can skip this town, go some place where Wayne can't find us. And we'll do with him what we want."

Damian moved back down the steps and into the cave. He placed the bird back in the medical bay then moved over to the changing area. 'They don't know Grayson's not in the Manor and that he's also Nightwing. They've hurt him in some way. That's their mistake. Looks like I'll have to show them the error of their ways where they won't hurt anyone again.'

Continues with Part 13


	14. Part 13-Seeing Red, Robins

My Sons' Eyes Are Blue, Too

By

AJ

Part 13 – Seeing Red, Robins

Tim Drake drove up to the Manor and was immediately suspicious. There was a strange car out front and the front door was wide open. Tim knew from Bruce that Alfred wasn't there and that Damian was alone. And even though the kid acted far more mature for his age, Damian was still an 11-year-old kid and could potentially get himself into trouble that he might not be able to handle.

Instead of entering through the front door, Tim decided to go through the garage. It would give him time to hide his motorcycle and maybe catch a glimpse of the person or persons who had entered to premises. Hopefully they would remain unaware of his presence.

Tim parked his motorcycle then entered the Manor via the garage entrance. The door opened onto a back corridor that led to the kitchen. As Tim moved through the kitchen and into the dining room, he heard voices coming from the hall. The two men were arguing over what their next move would be. He heard the name of Grayson being bantered about, and not for friendly purposes.

'These guys want Dick back, and badly.' Tim thought, remembering what happened a week ago. Anger flared inside Tim as he remembered Bruce telling him what they did to Dick. 'I thought they were in jail. They must have been released on bail otherwise they wouldn't be here. I better, find Damian and get him out of here. Either they'll kill him or he'll kill them. I'd kill them myself, but that wouldn't help send them back to jail.'

"This place us huge," Tim heard Jasper exclaim as his thoughts were interrupted.

"Yeah, and it would have been mine if Batman hadn't interfered. I should have killed Wayne's brat nine years ago. He;; I should have killed him when I got a second chance."

"I don't think anyone is here," Jasper stated. "You'd think someone would be."

"We'll check anyway," Malone stated. "They could be hiding."

"From what you told me, Wayne doesn't sound like a coward to me."

"Wayne got lucky last time. He had some dog with him."

Tim waited until both men moved off down the hall. He could hear their voices fade as they moved toward the den. Tim found the service elevator and took it to the second floor. He was glad that he remembered Alfred mentioning that the elevator was insulated against sound. If the intruders heard the elevator, they would surely investigate. With the elevator shaft having been soundproofed, Tim could move without fear of discovery. As the elevator doors opened on the second floor, Tim checked for intruders before exiting then raced across the hall to Damian's room. Though Damian would prefer that he would knock. Tim believed there was no time for courtesy with intruders in the house. Tim rushed into Damian's room and quickly saw that the room was empty. The bathroom door was open and that room was dark. Tim was about to exit when he heard the intruders as they drew closer. They had come up the stairs in the moments it had taken Tim to come to the second floor.

"Check the rooms," Malone said.

Tim could hear Cage opening doors and slamming them shut.

'Don't they believe in stealth?' Tim smirked.

It wouldn't be long before they would reach Damian's room when Tim realized there really wasn't any place to hide. Damian kept his room so neat it didn't look lived in. Tim had to move or he was going to get caught. Tim opened the sash and slipped out the window, hanging off the edge. While hanging out the window, Tim realized that the only other place Damian could be was in the cave. He should have headed down there first.

'Now how do I get there without being caught?"

"Drake," Damian dressed in his Robin uniform slipped down a grapple line where he was even with Tim. 'What are you doing hanging outside my room?"

"I came looking for you," Drake said, trying to keep his voice low. "Bruce sent me and why are you dressed for night work?"

"I asked you first. Why are you hanging outside my window?" Robin insisted.

"Fine, have it your way," Tim stated. "There are intruders in the Manor."

"I know. They are after Grayson," Damian answered.

"How do you know?" Tim asked.

"I don't need to explain myself to you, Drake. I intend to stop those men."

"Not without my help," Tim argued.

'You're not dressed Drake," Robin pointed out. "And those two won't stick around once they discover that Grayson isn't here."

"So . . ." Drake started to answer.

"So, stay out of my way," Robin growled.

"You know you sound like Batman," Tim said. "No wonder you and Bruce don't always get along. You're too much alike."

"Stuff it Drake," Robin replied as he climbed into the bedroom window and headed out to the hall.

Tim took advantage of the grappling hook and slid down to the ground to re-enter the Manor and headed to the clock to enter the cave. He could hear the sound of shouting and knew that Robin had started without him.

Tim dashed down to the uniform area and changed into Red Robin. He spied the old poles that Bruce sometimes used that led up to his study. They were the fastest means back to the Manor. He stepped onto the cushioned lift and hit the switch, making certain that he was able to stay dressed in his uniform. When he reached the study, the bookcase opened automatically and Red Robin stepped into the study. He raced out into the hall to see Robin being tossed into a nearby table.

"I see you got them well in hand," Red Robin commented.

Robin slowly rose from the broken remains of the table. "Maybe you can do better."

"Don't mind if I do," Red Robin proceeded to attack the pair with a series of flips and kicks. With the additional acrobatic training he received from Nightwing when he was Robin, Tim Drake had been able to hold his own even more than expected. Early in his crime fighting career, Bruce sent Tim on a crash course around the world, receiving various martial arts training, but it was Nightwing who taught him the finer points that made Robin who he was, a skilled acrobat that set him apart from Batman. Though Damian could fight with any blade, he had yet to learn those skills. He still lacked some of the quickness of movement that would enable him to avoid a blow from behind. Damian also lacked the judgment to know when to back down from a larger opponent who clearly had the upper hand. Plus, he still had to learn to control the rage that often made him sloppy and careless. It was that rage that could one day be his downfall.

With Red Robin joining the fight Matthew Malone and Jasper Cage were no match for the older vigilante. Red Robin was able to knock Matthew Malone out while Jasper Cage seized the opportunity and grabbed Robin from behind.

Putting a knife to the eleven-year-old's throat, Jasper demanded, "STOP NOW or I'll kill him!"

"Don't do it Cage," Red Robin stated. "You're already charged with rape and kidnapping. I don't think you want murder on that list as well."

"I swear I'll kill him!" Jasper Cage backed up not aware that his exit wasn't where he wanted to go.

Robin struggled in the man's grasp, his feet dragging across the floor. As the pair passed through the dining room, Robin took advantage of the situation and reached out to grasp whatever he could off the dining room table.

Red Robin continued to follow Jasper. He reached behind his back and pulled out a throwing star in the shape of a bird's head, the same shape as the symbol on his chest.

Jasper continued to move backward through the dining room looking for a way out as he continued to keep a grip around Robin's throat.

"You won't find a way out that way," Robin choked out his words.

"Shut up kid. Call the guy off or I'll slit your throat."

"You need me as a hostage if you want out if here alive."

"So, show me the way out or I'll spill your guts all over this room."

Jasper moved the knife from Robin's throat. It was the opportunity that both vigilantes were waiting for. Robin brought up a plate he grabbed off the table and smashed it across Jasper Cage's face as Red Robin threw his bird star into Jasper's hand that held the knife.

"AAAAHHH!" Jasper cried out at the same time Robin's plate shattered across his chin and Red Robin's thrown bird star bit into the villain's flesh. The man dropped to his knees and he lost his grip on the child vigilante.

Robin twisted around and hit Jasper Cage across the face felling the man.

"Better tie him up," Red Robin said as he tossed Robin a couple of zip ties. "I'll take are of Malone. I'll call Gordon and have these two picked up."

"What are you going to say to him?"

"Don't worry, I'll have a plausible explanation as to why two Robins are at Wayne Manor," Red Robin explained. "Of course you could always change back into your civilian clothes and feign fright and add to the fact that Damian overheard their conversation about these two wanting to kidnap Grayson. It would add more weight to my story."

"You know Drake, sometimes you come up with a good idea or two."

"Thanks, I'll accept the compliment."

The two boys did what was necessary to ensure that the two intruders were taken care of.

"You know, Alfred is really going to have a cow when he sees the state of the Manor," Tim commented after the police left and the two boys were back in their civilian clothes.

"Are going to tell him?" Damian asked, a look of actual fear entering in his eyes.

"Are you kidding? You're the one who broke one of his best pieces of china." Tim wondered what Damian could have done to deserve one of Alfred Pennyworth's glares. Sometimes they were scarier than Batman's.

"Oh right," Damian gulped in replied.

"Looks like it's polishing the silver for you."

Damian gave Tim a glare that nearly rivaled Batman's. Tim just turned his head and laughed.

Continues with Part 13


	15. Part 14-Arguing Brothers Angry Butlers

My Sons' Eyes Are Blue, Too

By

AJ

Part 14 –Arguing Brothers and Angry Butlers

Batman arrived at the Manor to find Red Robin taking a statement and Damian standing next to him.

"I overheard them," Damian said, trying to sound frightened.

"And where were you?" An officer questioned the boy.

"I was in another part of the Manor. I was heading to my room with . . . with this," Damian said and he held up the box that contained the bird with its dislocated wing. "I clearly heard one of them say that he wanted Dick." Damian didn't normally use Dick's first name. He was learning very quickly how to put on a "civilian mask."

"You mean Detective Richard Grayson, our new special forces officer?"

"That's Dick Grayson-Wayne," Damian corrected the officer. "My brother."

The officer glared at Damian. "Don't talk back. Just answer the question."

"Office Miller, take it easy on the kid,' Gordon stated. "You're new to this, and yes, he's the same person. I've known Dick Grayson since he was eight."

"Yes, Commissioner," The officer replied. "Did the man say why he wanted him?"

"I'm embarrassed to say," Damian feigned. "He used some very suggestive language. Um, my father would be upset if I repeat it." The fact of the matter, Damian could swear a blue streak that would make a sailor blush. He after all knew several in Arabic as well.

"Uh hum . . . of course."

"Batman," Red Robin spotted the elder vigilante and walked over to the man. "Everyone is safe."

Batman nodded, not giving anything away as to the relief that he felt.

"Batman," Damian came up to the vigilante, very much aware that others were listening. "Is my brother all right? He was taken to the hospital and Father went with him. I haven't heard anything." Damian didn't give away the fact that Alfred wasn't in the house.

Bruce was proud of Damian at that moment not saying anything that might reveal too much.

"And your brother is . . ." Batman coaxed Damian. It was a lesson in acknowledgement as well as a reminder that Batman wasn't supposed to be so familiar with the Wayne family.

"Um, Richard Grayson-Wayne," Damian whispered.

"Your brother is safe," Batman answered. "He should be home soon along with your father." Batman placed a hand on the boy's shoulder and gave it a slight squeeze. "If everything is secure here, Red Robin and I should return to the bat cave."

"Do you want a police officer to stay with you?" Gordon asked.

Damian was about to refuse when . . .

" . . . Actually, Commissioner . . . Batman, I will stay here and wait for Mr. Wayne," Red Robin said.

Damian looked up at Red Robin, his eyes narrowing.

"Well, having intruders in the house can give anyone a nasty fright. And I am certain having a crime fighter around would help."

"Oh yeah," Damian picked up on the cue. "That was rather scary. I guess I don't want to be alone. Having Red Robin around might make it easier . . . until my Father gets home that is."

"Thank you Red Robin for that offer," Gordon stated. "I'm sure Mr. Wayne would appreciate you watching over his son."

Batman nodded his head ever so slightly to indicate his approval.

"Well, I best get those two back to Gotham," Gordon indicated with a jerk of his thumb toward the two police vehicles. "With the evidence you gave me Batman along with Damian Wayne's statement, I'm sure a judge won't have any problem denying bail for these two. It's back to Black Gate for both of them. I'll see to it that they are no longer eligible for parole."

Batman watched as the police left then he also took the batmobile making certain that the police were out of site before turning into the secret entrance to the cave.

Meanwhile, Red Robin and Damian were having their own discussion.

"There really is no need for you to stay, Drake. I'm not a child."

Correction, you are a child, an 11-year-old child. You were lucky that the police did not point out that you were alone in the house and took you in and charged Bruce with reckless endangerment or even neglect. If they did that CPS would become involved. And you did get yourself into trouble. If Bruce hadn't sent me, those two might have done more than just take you from this house."

"They were looking for Grayson, not me," Damian pointed out.

"A technicality, they could have easily changed their minds and taken you hostage. You were lucky."

"Oh please, they didn't even see me. They saw Robin."

"Whom they tried to beat up," Red Robin pointed out. "They threw you across the room and into a table."

"I was toying with them," Damian argued.

"Toying with them. That's not what it looked like to me," Red Robin argued. "Cage had a knife at your throat."

"That's enough, both of you."

"Bruce . . ."

"Father."

"I'm glad to see that both of you were on your toes and that you didn't waste any time apprehending those two," Bruce commented. Though he would have preferred to be there to protect Damian, he was glad that Tim got his message and took care of things in his absence. Though he wasn't pleased with the fact that Damian should have been able to fight the two men on his own. 'I'll need to talk to Damian later.' There were other matters more important. "Now, let's go bring your brother home."

"I'm going to stay here, Father," Damian stated.

"And why is that, I'm certain Dick would be happy to see you."

Damian showed the box that contained the bird.

'Oh, the task that I had set for him,' Bruce thought. "Okay, Son. We should return soon." Seeing the bird's wing was also wrapped, it gave him hope that his former Robin would also fly again. "Tim, I may need your help. Better get changed first."

"Sure, Bruce."

It took several hours longer than expected to bring Dick home. Bruce would first have to deal with a very irate butler and father figure. When Bruce returned to the safe house, Alfred read him the riot act, more or less.

"Master Bruce Thomas Wayne, never in all of my days have I seen you treat Dr. Leslie Thompkins with so little respect."

"Alfred, I . . . I don't know what you're talking about," Bruce had some inkling, but he wasn't quite sure.

"Oh really, Sir," Alfred held up Bruce's phone for him to see.

"Oh, sh . . . " Bruce started to swear when he realized what must have occurred. Instead of talking with the good Doctor he must have put the phone down with her still on the line when he decided to back to the cave and work on the antitoxin.

". . . Don't even think it or I shall march you right into the bathroom and you shall be having soap for your breakfast," Alfred interrupted. "Now, Doctor Leslie gave you two hours to bring back her patient. Unfortunately, that time has passed considerably. At this point, I suggest you take Master Richard to see her at the hospital before she calls Commissioner Gordon and has him do a thorough search of the city. And if she is so inclined, she may decide to 'blow our cover' and storm this place herself."

"She doesn't know about this safe house," Bruce argued, changing the subject.

"That does not matter, Sir," Alfred said with distain. "All she has to do is have the police trace your cell phone."

"I . . . I didn't think about that," Bruce admitted. 'Next time create a scrambler for cell phones,' he quickly thought.

"Now march in there and carry your son to the car and take him back to the hospital immediately so Dr. Thompkins can discharge him properly into your care."

Tim watched the exchange with interest, but did not say anything. He rarely saw Alfred upset with his oldest charge. It was refreshing to see Bruce squirming a bit under the butler's scrutiny.

Bruce was silent as he carried his oldest boy in his arms. Dick was muttering in his sleep, but it didn't sound nearly as tortured as before. Bruce could tell it was one of Dick's usual nightmares, the one about his parents, but this time, it hadn't turned into something horrific that caused him to scream out in terror. This nightmare they could deal with more easily.

"It's all right Dick, I've got you," Bruce whispered to his son.

Feeling his father's embrace, Dick grasped his shirt with his good hand and would not let go. Something in that embrace told Bruce that Dick was sorry for having rejected Bruce's last attempt to comfort him. Bruce pressed his son tighter to his chest, hoping that Dick got his meaning, that what happened was forgiven and in the past.

"I shall see all of you back at the Manor," Alfred stated as Bruce walked out into the garage carrying Dick in his arms.

As Bruce approached the car, he was glad that Tim was there to open the door for him so he could place Dick in the front seat and buckle him in. He just hoped that Leslie wasn't as mad with him as Alfred had been.

Continues with Part 14


	16. Part 15-Epilogue Fly Robin Fly

My Sons' Eyes Are Blue, Too

By

AJ

Part 15 – Epilogue: Fly Robin Fly

It was a week since the sling was removed and Leslie had given Dick a clean bill of health, not only from his injuries healing, but also from the toxin that affected his mind. The injury to his collarbone surprisingly took only four weeks to heal. His ribs were healed within two weeks and the dislocated shoulder within one. And now Dick was exercising, testing his limits and retraining his body once more to do the things he knew he could do. As Dick did his exercises Bruce entered the gym. Dick was so in tuned with what he was doing, if he was aware that Bruce was there, he didn't show it, but something in the way he moved suddenly changed. It was as if he knew he had an audience and he wanted that audience to know who really had control.

Bruce watched as Dick went through his exercises, going from one apparatus to the next. Watching the young man he could not help but reminisce when he first saw Dick on the uneven bars from the first time. He had not seen Dick on the trapeze because of the tragedy. The uneven bars were his first opportunity to see the boy in action. The only way he could describe it was poetry in motion. He flew with a grace that only the top gymnasts of the world could match. The spins, flips, leaps, and handstands were done with such precision Bruce never hoped to match, even if Dick had been able to teach him.

Bruce remembered that day vividly. He watched as the boy approached the apparatus as if it was something sacred, a shrine to the greatest gymnast that ever lived. There was a brief pause as if the air itself was holding its breath. After Dick had changed into the shorts that Alfred had provided, and after chalking up his hands, without so much as a hesitation Dick took to the lower bar propelling himself to the upper with the aid of a handspring. Right after that movement after fluid movement followed, each with a purpose that held Bruce spellbound.

'I had not realized just how strong Dick was at that time. Though he appeared thin, he must have been all lean muscle to do what he did.'

Continuing with his reminiscing, in his mind's eye Bruce saw the routine as if it was yesterday. With every flip, tuck, and release that Dick did there was no waste of motion.

'I truly have forgotten just how much in control Dick really is . . .' Bruce thought. 'He's not really taking unnecessary risks, but . . . calculated ones.' Bruce realized as he watched Dick focus on his next move and went from the rings to the trapeze itself.

Now seeing Dick's full routine on the trapeze reminded Bruce when he decided soon after Robin started his training that getting the trapeze set was just as important as everything else. He remembered tearing down the wall between the gym and the ballroom in order to expand the space. The ballroom had 30 feet ceilings with two crystal chandeliers. The space hadn't been used since before his parents' deaths. And the number and type of parties that "Brucie" was noted for giving, the ballroom just didn't fit into his image. When the trapeze set had arrived, the look on Dick's face told Bruce he made the right decision. With Dick's help they were able to secure the rigging and the place the bars so there was less need for a catcher. Once everything was set up Dick showed Bruce the one thing he never got to see . . . the quadruple spin of doom. It was the most impressive thing that Bruce had ever seen in his life and it was that very spin he was watching now.

As Bruce watched the young man coming to the end of his routine, the young man morphed into a stockier, broader shouldered man and for an instant Bruce didn't see Dick, he saw John Grayson from that night. And for an instant he knew what the boy's father must have felt at seeing his son high about the world flying for all to see.

'John Grayson, I know you would be proud of your son. He has done things I'm certain you had never dreamed. He was already the best with that quadruple spin I just witnessed, but he's become something more. Though your death will always pain him greatly, thank you for giving me the opportunity to raise your son and to call him my own. It has been an honor.'

"Father?" Bruce's thoughts were interrupted as Damian came into the gym carrying the birdcage that contained the robin with its wrapped wing.

"Yes, Damian?"

"It's time."

"You going to release it?" Neither notice that Dick had landed on the mat not far from where Bruce was sitting.

"Of course, Grayson. This is between Father and I."

"Uh, sure," Dick replied.

"It's all right Damian. Dick can watch, too," Bruce said.

"Very well," Damian agreed though reluctantly.

The three of them moved from the gym and out to the back garden. Damian set the cage down and opening the door, he carefully reached in and gently grabbed the bird all the while soothing it with comforting words. Holding the bird near his chest, Damian carefully removed the cloth bandage that immobilized the wing. Taking a moment to examine the freed wing, Damian could feel that the wing did have movement, but would the bird be able to fly?

Damian bent down and whispered to the bird, "Robins are meant to fly." And with those words, Damian stretched out his arms and opened his hands. At first the bird hesitated. It flapped its previously injured wing to test it. Then without warning, the bird flapped both wings and lifted into the air. It soared toward the trees as if to escape its imprisonment. At the last moment, it banked and twisted its body in midflight and soaring back the way it came, it landed a bit roughly in the grass just a few feet from Bruce's feet, which surprised the elder Wayne. It waited as if expecting. Bruce approached the bird and knelt down to pick it up, but the bird . . . the robin hopped into his open hand. It chirped out its happy greeting as if to say thank you, then spread its wings once more and this time took flight, heading toward the roof of Wayne Manor as if to say, "Robin is here to stay."

"Well, looks like we have another Robin among us."

"Well, you can't keep us Robins down for long," Dick replied. "After all, we're born to fly."

"Just like a Grayson . . . a Flying Grayson," Bruce replied. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

End

_**A/N: The description of young Dick Grayson on the uneven bars was inspired by paganpunk2 description from her story Firework. I'll be taking a bit of a break to prepare another story. Could take some time to write. In the mean time, explore the rest of my collection. Enjoy!**_


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